


closer

by aishiteita



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Groundhog Day, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-23 20:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11409639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiteita/pseuds/aishiteita
Summary: closernounthe last part of a performance, collection, or series.a person who is skilled at bringing a business transaction to a satisfactory conclusion.Sanghyuk could be dead, stuck in another universe, or simply so deep in his sleep he had reached oblivion. Regardless of reality, at least Taekwoon was there.





	1. part i. rouse

**Author's Note:**

> hi im desperate for luck leohyuk taekhyuk Whatever u call these lads im just desperate. this has completely taken control of my head for the past month. save me.
> 
> the real a/n: this is my vvv first vixx fic!! i hope u enjoy reading this bc idk its Mess.   
> additional pairing i didnt wanna tag bc tbh theyre so Minor i didnt wanna get anyones hopes up: ravi/ken, chorong/bomi, hakyeon/eunji.
> 
> also i mean we can all listen to vixx the closer while reading bc i sure did that but. Personally. id like to rec grizzly bear's song, [two weeks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjecYugTbIQ) :') i think it goes along well esp w the later chapters, but ofc, feel free to listen to anything else, or nothing at all.
> 
> for vivi: thanks for dragging me into this hell. not this specific layer, but the first one at least. the slight raken is for u bc i loveeee u <333

**D-71 (5/6)**

The third compartment from the back of Friday and Sunday evenings' last trains were entirely Sanghyuk's between the hours of eleven and one. When the train shook, the seats' ridges—all five of them—dug hard into his spine and the backs of his knees, threatening him to fall and finally sit properly with his feet down on the floor. Sanghyuk simply scooted in a little, farther away from the grimy floor where mud-trodden feet pressed against and his eyes were immediately blinded by the stark white lights. The four-stop journey stretched on to make its own twenty-fifth hour of the day following his steady breathing as seconds.

It was a few minutes to twelve a.m. on a Monday morning when the train screeched to a halt, lights flickering before shutting down completely to leave Sanghyuk breathing in the dark. He shot up, alarmed, focusing on the slivers of silver where stanchions reflected the outside city lights. The grab handles knocked against each other like pendulums until the screech stopped.

" _The train will run again shortly_ ," came the voice from the train's intercom, " _please remain seated._ "

Sanghyuk occupied only one seat, now, shock gone and replaced by a thrum of worry jerking at his knee and making him jiggle his right leg. The train's aircon had stopped running and it felt like he couldn't breathe anymore, like there was no longer any air to inhale. He ran cold fingers over colder knuckles, humidity drawing out the heat from his body as he counted the seconds until he heard footsteps approaching from a distance, soft and in tandem with his breaths.

A silhouette from the compartment entrance—what light went through the train's windows behind his head showed that it was a tall man in what seemed to be a blazer. He gave Sanghyuk a glance which he felt more than saw, and proceeded to take up the farthest seat away from Sanghyuk that was still within the same row. The man was silent throughout, whirring machinery and rustling clothes hiding whatever voice he might have allowed to leak.

Briefly, the thought of running out of air within a train compartment sent shivers down Sanghyuk's back. This jolt of panic stilled at the bottom of his guts and crawled back up with the unsettling presence of the stranger next to him. Sanghyuk's knee twitched against his will; the harder he stared at it, the more it itched, to the point where his heel wouldn't touch the floor for longer than half a second and he couldn't stop it.

"Fuck," Sanghyuk muttered under his breath. He gave the man a brief glance just as the lights flickered back on, revealing the shadows on their worn faces and allowing eyes to finally meet. Look, blink, nod, and look away; it was as good an acknowledgment as any. The train's whirring took on a more familiar rhythm at last and nothing had ever been more calming to Sanghyuk.

" _Next stop_ ," the intercom announced, sounding louder than it had ever been.

Sanghyuk watched the man get up, arms stuck to his sides and body swaying along with the train before halting perfectly when it stopped, as if his legs were rooted to the floor. They had the same stop, Sanghyuk realized, but different destinations as he trudged up the stairs of the eastern exit. He committed the out-of-season blazer and fluffy black hair to memory, as if they were vital.

**D-50 (27/6)**

Sanghyuk ran his fingers through fine hair—so fine it irked him. His hair constantly kept itself in his helmet's shape, a hideous bowl-cut that he prayed would get better once fall comes along to dry the air up. The last dregs of summer forced grease to cling onto every fiber of his ugly work uniform, an obnoxious orange with brown stains on its left sleeve.

"Here's your change." Sanghyuk passed coins along to a customer after handing over their box of fried chicken. The door closed before him, its _welcome_ sign swaying in his face, and it took three kicks to get his motorbike running again.

Something less known to anyone and even Sanghyuk himself most of the time, was how his luck worked. The one time his seniors trusted him with nearly a million-won's worth of weed, Sanghyuk fell out with his dealer, which led to extreme ostracization for a good month or two. Then the cops came. What was supposed to be about twenty arrests became two, and Sanghyuk managed to return all the money with claps on his shoulder and patronizing coos of _you know we didn't mean it, Hyukkie._

So far be it for Sanghyuk to be fazed by anything like the tree that could've crushed him in its fall if it weren't for him stopping the bike to sneeze. The workers apologized and offered him coffee, but the company iPad was buzzing in his messenger bag and he really had to deliver this last box of fried chicken.

The last box of chicken was to be delivered to one Jung Taekwoon, who lived in a decently-sized condominium not far away from where Sanghyuk's shared apartment was, streaks of mossy grey dripping down old white paint as if it was trying its hardest to appear homely. Sanghyuk concurred, for the most part. It didn't matter how homely the building was if the customer's door looked more like that of an empty room's. No shoe rack, no lights, no flowers or welcome signs save for the name card above the doorbell.

A man opened the door for him without greeting, cash crumpled up in one hand while he stayed a good two feet away from Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk found it odd, but he took in the man's sickly complexion and tossed whatever offense he took off his shoulder. "Mister Taekwoon?" Sanghyuk confirmed, tapping at the company's iPad. It finally stopped buzzing.

The man—Taekwoon—nodded mutely, hand eagerly reaching out to pass Sanghyuk the money. The notes were damp from being in his sweaty hands for so long, Sanghyuk noted, offering the food along with his change. The clouds covered the sun right in this moment, and it clicked in Sanghyuk's mind when he saw Taekwoon's stony face in the shadows.

"Train guy," Sanghyuk said with glee, "when it stopped, remember?"

Taekwoon didn't do much but blink at Sanghyuk a couple times, wary and ready to slam the door in his face. Having context for Taekwoon's identity made observing him all the more amusing for Sanghyuk, his base of constant boredom feeding off the nonsensical excitement. He watched the twitch in Taekwoon's fingers as they carefully made their way to the door handle.

"Maybe," Taekwoon softly replied, taking a step back into his apartment. Sanghyuk got the hint.

"Alright." The iPad was shoved back into his bag the moment it was done processing the transaction, and Sanghyuk made his way back to the elevators with an overly enthusiastic wave to Taekwoon. "Have a good evening!"

Taekwoon mouthed something that looked like _thanks_ before shutting the door.

 

 

"That's kinda funny," Wonsik chuckled while completely highlighting an entire page of his readings. Sanghyuk would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to how bad Wonsik's grades had become for him to register in one of the summer classes. "One of you will get fucked over soon, I guess. This happens every time you meet new people on your own—something bad just happens."

Sanghyuk was spacing out on his bed, staring at a nondescript spot on the wall while chewing on his thumb. "I'm just glad he's not a ghost."

"Not surprising coming from you." Their ceiling fan did its best keeping the room cool, whining and creaking with every rotation. Its motor was shot; Sanghyuk watched the blades spin slower with each passing day. He used to fear the fan, thinking of scenarios where the blades spun out of control.

"Stop sucking on your thumb like that, it sounds gross," Wonsik snapped. "Go to sleep."

Sanghyuk stopped, pulling the completely wet and wrinkly digit out of his mouth to wipe the saliva on his sheets. "Didn't you say you've something to say to me earlier?"

Wonsik looked up from his papers to squint at Sanghyuk. He tried to school his face into something more ignorant, like he forgot to tell Sanghyuk, but it wasn't Wonsik's best effort. Sanghyuk saw the rapid blinking, the sigh that Wonsik didn't release. He understood. "Did I?"

 

 

**D-49 (28/6)**

There was a time when Sanghyuk didn't see finance being a part of his life. But now, he was in an ill-fitting suit—the hem of his trousers barely reaching his ankles when he had fastened the belt as low on his hips as they would allow—feeling out of sorts under the stark lights of _Credit Suisse_ 's corridor after an interview he couldn't recall a single second of. His blazer might be stained under his armpits, but he wasn't too sure. At this point in time, he couldn't tell wet apart from dry in the maddening humidity that got even his refrigerator to sweat.

"How did it go?" Younghyun asked him, shattering the comforting noise of sizzling oil Sanghyuk tried so hard to focus on.

"I dunno," Sanghyuk muttered without much thought. The click of his helmet nearly pinched skin. "Hurry with the last order, hyung, please. I don't wanna close up today."

The traffic light turned red when the first few drops of rain landed on Sanghyuk's helmet. By the time it turned green, Sanghyuk was riding his bike under a summer downpour, where he couldn't see anything further than five feet away from him. He got used to the stick of wet fabric against his skin past the fifth delivery, but it was considerably harder to ignore the chill settling into his bones. Sanghyuk sneezed, drawing a sharp breath after exhaling an obvious shudder, teeth chattering.

Taekwoon was his last delivery once more; tousled black hair and a tight face with his brows furrowed slightly at any given time greeting him. He gave Sanghyuk a pitiful once-over from the doorway, wary stance faltering as he opened the door wider.

"Wait here," Taekwoon whispered more than said. Sanghyuk couldn't nod his head in time, left hand squeezing his arm to wring the excess water out. It trickled down his fingers and spun about his wrists. Only when Taekwoon reappeared, towel in his hands and a soft _you should take them off_ barely audible past the roaring rain against concrete, did Sanghyuk realize that he hadn't taken his helmet or gloves off. It felt odd wiping himself down with his clothes still on, but Sanghyuk didn't complain—anything to stop his shoulders from jumping up at the cold. Taekwoon stared at him the whole while, arms crossed before his torso, absently scratching at an elbow.

"Thanks." Sanghyuk sheepishly held the now-damp towel out to Taekwoon. He quickly grabbed his iPad to input the transaction, clear it from his list. "You're not getting a discount on that," he said with an automatic grin. The words slipped out of his mind, as easy as him swooping down to pick up the box of fried chicken and pass it to Taekwoon's waiting hands. "And sorry," he added as an afterthought.

Taekwoon kept their interaction short afterwards, damp towel draped over his shoulder as he gripped the change tight in his hands, plastic in the other. "Thanks," he said. Again, Sanghyuk saw the word more than he heard it.

With hideous electric orange clinging onto his skin, Sanghyuk waved at Taekwoon as he always did before heading off for the elevators. "Have a good evening."


	2. part ii. lull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmfao happy bday hyuk my lad
> 
> also im sorry i tried to research (see: google) as much as i could but im Dumb at finance since day one so. pls bear w any incorrect terminology etc!!! u can.. feel free to correct me :')))

**D-44 (3/7)**

Sanghyuk blew his nose—loud—for the umpteenth time, the edges of his desk lined with balled-up tissue paper. "You should consider working out," said the employee next to him. If Sanghyuk's currently half-deaf ears heard right, his name was Seokjin. "A lil' bit of jogging does _wonders_ for sinuses, I heard."

"Thanks." Sanghyuk couldn't process much of his responses; his head hurt and there was a consistent ringing in his ears from how much he had been sneezing in the past hour alone.

"Really, though, would you like medicine? The nearest pharmacy is just—"

Sanghyuk cut Seokjin off by pointing towards the pills right by his computer. Seokjin backed off, but not before tossing Sanghyuk more menial tasks after a thirty-second instruction that was barely enough for him to understand just what he was exactly looking at. "Okay," Sanghyuk sighed, impossibly nasal even if it was only an exhale.

It was already a quarter past four when Seokjin left Sanghyuk with the rest of his work for the afternoon, desk cleaned up and ready for the evening as he dashed out for dinner with the other employees. Sanghyuk begged to everything that he wouldn't need to do overtime on his first day. The numbers weren't hard; his eyes just refused to focus on the spreadsheet before him, puffy and sticky in the corners. He wiped at them with the same napkin he just blew into.

Most of the other interns had left when Sanghyuk was done. Seokjin was nowhere to be found, but Sanghyuk spotted a couple classmates on his way out of the building, glass windows tinted orange and magpies so loud he nearly missed the _ding_ of the elevator. In his delirium, Sanghyuk watched the elevator go up instead of down, forgetting the buttons entirely and realizing much too late nine floors up that he didn't press for the ground floor.

A tall man stepped into the elevator; Sanghyuk couldn't forget the black hair and out-of-season blazer despite not pressing the ground floor button for the second time. With what he hoped was his clean hand, he tapped at the man's shoulder. "Taekwoon, right?"

Sanghyuk grinned watching a familiar set of eyes balk at him. Taekwoon shrugged off his hand, wary as ever. "Sorry," he immediately said, tone level but Sanghyuk saw the small step he took backwards. "I didn't know you—work here."

"Intern," Sanghyuk rectified. "First day." He observed Taekwoon's polite nod, how he had one hand over the other that gripped his briefcase. There it was—Sanghyuk had never seen Taekwoon's hands wide open and relaxed. They were always holding onto something, holding tight, vice-like. He didn't want to talk to Sanghyuk, and like he did with most people, Sanghyuk understood. And like he always did with those same people, Sanghyuk pressed on. "Are you my boss?"

"Maybe," was Taekwoon's non-committal answer.

"Maybe? I'm in research. Are you my boss there?"

Taekwoon tried to keep his sigh small. "I'm just an associate."

"But in research," Sanghyuk added.

"Yes. Research associate."

"I'll be very careful with your next deliveries, then," Sanghyuk teased before his nose started itching again, a sneeze wracking his entire frame and he only managed to fish out a used napkin, wiping his snot away before Taekwoon saw. "If I do get to deliver your chicken again." Taekwoon caught him wiping at his eyes with the very same napkin. The disdain was heavy in his squinted gaze.

"That's disgusting," Taekwoon muttered. Sanghyuk chortled because it sounded like a response to his mock-offer.

Sanghyuk was sweating bullets under his shirt and blazer, stains coming through on the most unattractive places, but Taekwoon wasn't. He was just a tad shiny in the face, and Sanghyuk didn't know whether to be ticked or fascinated by how dry and _fluffy_ Taekwoon's hair was at the end of a grueling workday—in summer.

"Take off your blazer," Taekwoon hissed, "you look horrible." Sanghyuk didn't miss his unsaid _don't embarrass me in public_.

"I've a cold, and the train is gonna be freezing." He threw his balled-up tissue into the trash bin right next to the entrance when they were still a good five feet away from it; his damp handiwork bounced off the bin's faux-silver lid to land on the pristine marble floor. Taekwoon sucked at the back of his teeth, but hurried a couple steps forward to pick the tissue up and properly throw it anyway. Sanghyuk bit back a giggle before pulling out a fresh sheet of three-ply, pure, virgin cotton. "So considerate."

"You don't just look horrible," Taekwoon retorted, raising his voice for the first time before Sanghyuk. "You _are_ horrible." Even if it was only somewhat above his normal volume, Sanghyuk was glad he could finally hear Taekwoon without straining his ears.

"So I've been told." The streets were relatively crowded with high schoolers milling about before their private academies called them back in for evening classes. While walking past cafés and chain restaurants, Sanghyuk found himself missing student discounts. "Are you actually going home? This early?"

"I'm going back later," Taekwoon answered, hand scratching at a random spot on the nape of his neck. Sanghyuk took note of how his blunt nails couldn't do much, barely turning the scarily pale skin of his neck pink when Sanghyuk decided that he couldn't look much longer without blinking.

The train was considerably more packed than the streets, and Sanghyuk was grateful for his height—some unfortunate schoolgirl had to deal with his disaster of an armpit while he enjoyed a first-class view of the subway map. Four stops. He recalled that the first time he saw Taekwoon, it was near midnight. Fear and an odd semblance of pity crossed his mind considering the possible fact that Taekwoon finished work so late each night. If Taekwoon were thirty—Sanghyuk estimated—he'd be doing this at least for the next thirty years of his life. Taekwoon would essentially repeat his entire life so far going up and down _Credit Suisse_ 's thirty-three floors. It was a bleak thought for him to entertain, and Sanghyuk couldn't help but mumble, "Good luck with work."

Taekwoon looked at him strangely. "Thank you?" He added with hesitation, "You... get well soon," before promptly turning away from Sanghyuk, leaving him to stare at the reflection of Taekwoon's face on the window. When their eyes met upon glass, he received a fatigued scowl.

That wasn't the last glare he was to receive from Taekwoon; they got off the train together, because they lived a mere street apart from each other, and Taekwoon seemed to be puzzled by their similar destination. "We got off the same stop too last time, don't you remember?" Taekwoon almost shook his head before understanding wrote itself over his features. "I live like, ten minutes away from you."

"I don't know if you're a stalker or if you're trying to kiss up here." This was by far the longest sentence Sanghyuk had ever heard come out of Taekwoon in one breath, and it amused him so much he forgot to be offended, instead working hard fighting the grin threatening to sour on his face.

"Don't flatter yourself," Sanghyuk huffed. "Have a good evening, _sir_."

 

 

**D-41 (6/7)**

It had been a while since Sanghyuk took up the midnight shift, and he was beyond elated to see the name _Jung Taekwoon_ appear on his iPad. He thought Taekwoon was avoiding him—if it weren't for the one tiny glimpse of the man Sanghyuk managed to chance upon earlier in the afternoon, he would've been convinced that Taekwoon took a good three days off work.

"Don't you guys have anyone else to do deliveries?" Taekwoon sighed upon seeing Sanghyuk poised before his doorway, box of fried chicken in his hands.

"We do." Sanghyuk lowered the box when Taekwoon reached out for it, stretched his arms to the left when Taekwoon swooped down. "You just have bad luck." Taekwoon stopped chasing after the box, but only until Sanghyuk lowered his guard, allowing him to swiftly swipe it away from Sanghyuk's hands that remained mercifully still in the end. "There are _so many_ brands to choose from, honestly." The grin never left Sanghyuk's face, and he had to purse his lips to keep from snorting. He watched Taekwoon's ears redden at the tips, swallowing down whatever curse he wanted to throw in Sanghyuk's way because that would be abuse to him, as a worker, and Taekwoon had yet to pay for his chicken.

"You're a stalker. I'm sure of it."

Sanghyuk couldn't keep the laughter in after that; he pressed the heel of his palm to his lips, begging for them to close and hide his huge teeth, for his eyes to stop tearing up because it wasn't even funny, and Taekwoon had said the same line twice now. He shouldn't be laughing in the first place.

"The point of stalking is to not get _caught_ ," Sanghyuk said in between breaths, wheezing the last of his giggles. "If I am your stalker, I'm terrible, and I don't really do terrible."

Taekwoon had his hands wounded up tight again; crumpled notes and coins in one of them while the other threatened to cut its fingers open against the cardboard edges of the box's handle. "Kissing up to me won't get you anything," he said after a pause.

"I know." Sanghyuk decided that he couldn't spend any more time being a nuisance in front of Taekwoon's door. This was only his second last delivery for the night. "You're only an associate, after all."

The quick raise of Taekwoon's brows was all Sanghyuk needed to feel accomplished for the rest of the week. He pulled his iPad out, received exact change from Taekwoon, shoved the device back into his bag before turning on his heel. There was a reminder to look right and wish Taekwoon a good evening niggling at his mind, but the elevator doors opened, and Sanghyuk decided to not say anything for one night, not even spare Taekwoon a wave after what must've been a few solid seconds of blank staring.

 

 

**D-40 (7/7)**

His days went as such: arrive at work by nine, sort through his tasks (without actually doing them) by ten, attempt work until eleven or so, then piss Seokjin off for the rest of his morning until Bomi calls him for lunch. Today wasn't any different as Bomi walked over to him with her bagels and coffee, looking like she was holding hands with death itself.

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna work here," Bomi muttered with a faint smile on her face that miraculously drew more pity than annoyance from Sanghyuk. It was a Bomi thing; Sanghyuk never disproved her complaints because Bomi carried her weight around everything in her life well, from how she walked Sanghyuk through old breakups to how she was going to be an associate after only two years in the bank, all while remaining rationally selfless and defensive against the rumored wiles of corporate.

"I'm just interning," Sanghyuk shot back, rather absentmindedly because he fucked up his credits for the past semester and couldn't afford to pass up this summer internship. Any thoughts beyond the next two months were non-existent as far as he knew.

The lack of a blazer over his shirt made walking outside the building a personal challenge on self-esteem. Sanghyuk had his sleeves rolled up because he couldn't be bothered to invest in short-sleeved shirts like Bomi did, but they both sported matching pit stains and clumpy, sweat-matted hair. "You've been here for what, a week?" Bomi squinted her eyes as she watched the midday rush before the café. "How are you finding it so far?"

"Four days," Sanghyuk corrected. "And there's nothing to tell, I've told you everything."

Bomi sipped at her frappe before wiping more sweat off her forehead. "Taekwoon is... nice? He's odd but yeah, it's his way of helping you out. There was this one time when I was an intern—he just went to my desk, told me to shut up, then delayed the deadline for a good six hours." Two schoolgirls glanced at them briefly with sneers as they walked past into the café, and Bomi swept her fringe up as if it would save her from looking sloppy when really, she had destroyed her delicate french braid. "I fucked up really bad that day. Forgot to check two companies and he saw."

Knowing that Taekwoon was a decent human being who would pass a towel to any sopping wet chicken delivery guy didn't make Sanghyuk feel particularly pleasant. "Have you talked to him at all ever since?"

The question caught Bomi off-guard, eyes wide as she tried to gather an answer. "Not really," she said after a few seconds. "With him, it's like... if you weren't close in the first place, you'll never be?"

Sanghyuk snorted and muttered, _so cold_ , before he could let his disappointment show.

 

 

Post-lunch was actual work, because Seokjin would _definitely_ pass off the last bits of his to Sanghyuk, and he couldn't even retaliate because Seokjin apparently took overtime every day, eyes constantly puffy from the long rows of numbers on Excel. This went on until six, on good days—eight on others.

A clear nose meant clear focus, and Sanghyuk breezed through his work to clock out at a quarter past six, right when it started to rain. He dashed to the elevators while staring past the tall glass windows, hoping to outrun the initial drizzle when the sound of rain crashing against asphalt reached his ears before he even got to the foyer.

Taekwoon was outside, under the overhang with his bottom lip sucked in between teeth as he stared at the rain. He turned around in surprise when Sanghyuk opened his umbrella; it quickly turned into mild interest as he crossed over to Sanghyuk, leaning into his ear because the rain made it sound like they were in a vacuum. "Can I borrow your umbrella?"

"I've only one," Sanghyuk yelled back. Boldly, he added, "We'll have to share."

The flush overtaking Taekwoon's face was enough of a defeat. He didn't say much other than a quiet _okay_  before proceeding to practice an inane caution regarding the distance between their shoulders, flinching whenever his blazer so much as brushed against Sanghyuk's shirt.

"You're not twelve," Sanghyuk joked, " _sir_." When Taekwoon didn't respond, Sanghyuk pushed the conversation further, even if it was just him screaming to himself underneath a tiny umbrella. "Are you going back to work after?"

"Yes."

"Have dinner with me sometime."

"You've work."

"I can switch shifts."

"It'll be hard for you."

"I'm not a stalker."

Sanghyuk relished in the _you are_ that slipped out of Taekwoon's mouth before he pursed his lips, shoulders lowered as he exhaled. "You pop up way too many times."

"You can't pin me as a stalker when this is all _coincidence_ ," Sanghyuk laughed, exasperated.

The train station was considerably quieter compared to the deafening summer rain outside, and it made Taekwoon's voice sound ten times louder. "I didn't mean to say that," he said, tapping his card at the gate. "It's just. Too many meetings. You can't say that's not creepy."

"That's the most I've heard you speak, ever."

"I'm not mute," Taekwoon bit back, ending his word half-heartedly and Sanghyuk realized that he never gave Taekwoon his name.

"It's Hyuk. Han Sanghyuk."

The train was less crowded by just a fraction this evening, cold stabbing at Sanghyuk's shoulder that wasn't quite covered by the umbrella earlier. Taekwoon wordlessly offered him a handkerchief, and Sanghyuk couldn't be bothered to rival the train's shrieking by saying anything back. He pinched the handkerchief's edge, careful not to touch Taekwoon's fingers because he was sure the other would flinch and drop the cloth onto the train's mud-trodden floors.

The train ride itself wasn't special. Four stops of utter silence and minimal struggle as they squeezed out of the crowd. "Good luck with work, sir," Sanghyuk said, extending a hand towards Taekwoon once they walked past the gates. "See you first thing Monday morning."

Sanghyuk didn't expect Taekwoon to shake his hand in kind, to be honest. He had anticipated a good three seconds of his fingers awkwardly still mid-air before he dropped his hand back to rest by his hip, so there wasn't much time for his brain to process the fact that Taekwoon had his right hand in a firm grip, a classic, respectable handshake he couldn't return properly before Taekwoon decided to pull away.

"Thanks a lot," Taekwoon said—not whispered, but said in clear, audible syllables—with the corners of his mouth ever-so-slightly upturned, just shy of a smile. "And please don't call me _sir._ "

This time, Taekwoon waved goodbye before Sanghyuk did, and he had never felt more accomplished in his life.

 

 

**D-39 (8/7)**

What passed as a dilemma for Sanghyuk was having to decide between death by a putrid game of gin pong, and death by watching Hongbin's smile scrunch up his whole face as he took a girl by the hand into a room. Wonsik had disappeared when Sanghyuk turned his back to make himself screwdrivers and so he had no means of talking to anyone as he knew a total of maybe five people in this house party of sixty-seven (or so it said on Facebook).

 _When_ _will_ _you_ _get_ _over_ _Hongbin_ , _even?_ was a question Wonsik loved posing him whenever Sanghyuk joked about Wonsik being in the closet, and in all honesty, it was a good question. Sanghyuk didn't know when he would get over Hongbin, considering the fact that they were never together in the first place and _no, hyung, there's nothing to get over._

The fact was that Hongbin, as an existence, wasn't something Sanghyuk ever wanted to be wholly his or anything as formal. He just spent too much time liking him to the point where the act of liking Hongbin in itself had become an essential part of Sanghyuk's makeup, and that was the status quo. Any emotions that came along after was almost borne out of boredom; Sanghyuk would rather wallow in his faux envy outside of Hongbin's door, listening to whatever lewd sound that managed to slip out of the cracks and get into his ears before the bass did, than run to catch the last bus home.

(Though Sanghyuk fully knew that whatever feelings he had for Hongbin weren't simply for the sake of satisfying some odd ennui of his; being friends since high school proved that Hongbin was the ideal, the perfect template of everything he had ever wanted and maybe more if Sanghyuk allowed himself to be more subjective about it. He refused to.)

Sanghyuk never told Hongbin much. What held them together were mostly games, midnight movies, telling Wonsik that his taste in anything sucked. The most Hongbin had ever done was hold Sanghyuk's wrist and occasionally ruffle his hair. The most Sanghyuk had ever done was tackle Hongbin down after his high school graduation ceremony and remain on top of him for at least ten seconds.

So no, he couldn't really imagine what Hongbin would look like beyond the door, having relatively quiet sex as Sanghyuk was slumped beside said door, nursing his second screwdriver for the evening. It was five minutes to one in the morning when the girl walked out of the room, side-eyeing Sanghyuk as she did, and ten past one when Hongbin jumped up, startled upon seeing Sanghyuk and his four empty glasses.

"Lemme crash at your place," Hongbin slurred, nearly tipping over one of the glasses as he squatted next to Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk quietly molded the familiar feeling of wanting to touch Hongbin with his envy from a couple hours ago. He sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly through his nose. "Missed the last bus."

Their shoulders were stuck together, but Sanghyuk couldn't even hear Hongbin when the other was too busy watching the crowd dancing about the living room. "It's not too far of a walk." Hongbin shuffled his feet and tipped over a glass in the process; a couple drops of orange ended up on the marble floor, and Sanghyuk wondered if Hongbin noticed, if he had the itch to clean it up as he usually did. "C'mon. You can walk for half an hour."

"It's more than half an hour."

"Barely." Hongbin got up, dusted his jeans before extending a hand to help Sanghyuk up. He wasn't taking no for an answer, but Sanghyuk didn't plan to decline in the first place.

A quarter past two, and Wonsik was fast asleep on the couch with his arms around a familiar man, though Sanghyuk couldn't recall any names to the face. He offered Hongbin his bed and slept on Wonsik's, grateful for the alcohol weighing down his eyelids because Wonsik's sheets reeked of sex, and Sanghyuk could feel a damp spot underneath his calf. He would sleep on the floor if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't afford to catch another cold.

"Your hair doesn't look stupid anymore, by the way," Hongbin said, muffled by Sanghyuk's pillow.

 

 

**D-38 (9/7)**

Sanghyuk woke to someone slapping his thigh and sunlight shot straight into his eyes. "Hyuk," Wonsik grumbled, "wake up, you slept on dried come."

The blinds were raised, of course, because Wonsik was the kind of person who couldn't live without the lights on twenty-four seven and they would never have the money for that. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Wonsik pulled a face before deadpanning, "He's not my boyfriend and he went back a lot earlier."

Somewhere before he said the word _boyfriend_ , Wonsik's breath hitched, and Sanghyuk kept rubbing at his eyes as if he didn't hear it. There were three things Wonsik couldn't do: shower in the mornings, lie, and have casual sex. "Is Hongbin-hyung still here?"

"Ordering lunch right now." Wonsik shooed Sanghyuk off his bed and proceeded to tuck himself in, comforter pulled all the way to his face. He was sniffing at the sheets and his pillow, dignity barely intact before Sanghyuk as he pushed the comforter back down with a defeated groan. "Why did you have to sleep here. Why couldn't you sleep on the floor?"

"Fuck you." Sanghyuk flipped Wonsik off from his own bed. "God, I can't say you can't fuck in your own bed. Does it matter if this room is half-mine?"

"No."

"So you _are_ gay. I told you so. Hey, is this what you wanted to tell me the other day? Were you actually gonna come out to me?"

"I dunno, I just like him." Wonsik kicked the comforters off him and finally got up to pull the dirty sheets off his mattress. "You're the worst. Can't believe I thought of coming out to _you_."

The slouch of Wonsik's shoulders was relief if any, and Sanghyuk thought he could spare him the questions for another time. There was pizza in the living room and he wanted to watch Hongbin take up the entire couch, laughing at Wonsik's tiny hickeys which looked more like bug bites than anything.

 

 

**D-35 (12/7)**

The thing about minor accidents is that they push you out of yourself and make everything painless, even if just for a moment. Sanghyuk couldn't remember the car's plate number nor pinpoint where exactly he was hurting or if he was even bleeding. All he knew was that he had to make one last delivery to Taekwoon before closing shop with Younghyun, he was maybe a good half-mile away from Taekwoon's apartment building, and he could still stand, his motorbike was still running.

Someone who wasn't Taekwoon opened the door for him, raising his voice when he saw Sanghyuk. None of his words went into Sanghyuk's head; if Sanghyuk tried, he could make out _are you okay holy shit_ but beyond that, he was too busy fumbling for his iPad—thankfully intact. Then the thought of going up the wrong elevator in the wrong block occurred to him, and so Sanghyuk apologized, head ducked down and dark spots floating about his vision.

"Sanghyuk," said a familiar voice. He looked up. Taekwoon's eyes were wider than he had ever seen them before, and he couldn't help a sheepish grin as he produced the company's iPad along with a slightly dilapidated box of chicken.

"Accidents happen," he said, smiling still, "sorry."

It wasn't until Taekwoon's companion ushered him into the apartment, past the doorway with his shoes still on into a living room with a paused game on the television screen, that the pain registered full-force and Sanghyuk involuntarily let out a whimper. His uniform was sleeveless, and only now did he feel the tack of blood on his arms, how the skin of his legs burned and itched, some sensation that was between smarting and stabbing overwhelming his right hip and—there was a lot happening.

Taekwoon unbuckled the clasp of his helmet, pulled it off his head before taking Sanghyuk's face in his hands. "No concussion," he ruled, stretching the skin of Sanghyuk's eyelids.

"No," Sanghyuk mumbled back, "I managed to find my way here. My head's fine."

The other man returned with a first aid kit, and Sanghyuk sat obediently throughout the whole process; when Taekwoon dressed his wounds, he didn't flinch as much as he panicked over the thought of his manager firing him for not closing on time.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Taekwoon asked him. Sanghyuk shook his head. Hands were immediately on him, squeezing his shoulders, then sides, his stomach, before pushing against his sore hip and Sanghyuk yanked Taekwoon's wrist away from him by reflex. "Sanghyuk, stop, I need to see."

"I'd rather you not, sir."

"It's just a bit of your shirt."

"It's _fine_."

Taekwoon relented after that, pulling away to reach for his wallet and passed Sanghyuk more cash than he had change for. "Is your bike okay? Hakyeon can take you home."

"It's alright." Sanghyuk accepted the notes wordlessly, trying to scrummage for more money than the coins in his bag's front pocket when Taekwoon waved his hand.

In the end, Sanghyuk returned by himself, motorbike only scratched up on the surface with one missing rearview window. Younghyun told him to sit still while he closed shop. His manager deducted his pay by seventy-five thousand won but called him a cab. Wonsik gave him some odd herbal ointment for the massive bruise on his hip and that was that. It was supposed to just be that. Sanghyuk wasn't supposed to imagine Taekwoon's fingers on his broken skin when he showered, shouldn't quiver when he traced his jawline, when he tried cupping his face in his own hands.


	3. part iii. surge

**D-33 (14/7)**

Back in his high school days, when his feelings for Hongbin were less subtle and bordered on pathetic obsession, Sanghyuk got himself involved in a minor accident. The longest flight of stairs in school—he was halfway up when a group ran him down by accident. He fell hard on his head, and wouldn't wake up until the next day, hospitalized.

Hongbin visited a few hours after he woke up, flustered behind jokes and updates on their favorite game. Sanghyuk's mother went out for dinner when Hongbin confessed, "I kept mulling over it. Like, if you died. Or became a vegetable."

"Are you glad now?" Sanghyuk chuckled.

Hongbin didn't look at him when he replied, "So fucking much, you wouldn't believe."

So Sanghyuk really considered it, getting into another accident if it meant Hongbin awkwardly looking away from him with his lips pursed whenever Sanghyuk turned around. That was years ago. Sanghyuk didn't think that way anymore, and Hongbin had never been the most sentimental person on earth.

Sanghyuk no longer saw the appeal of getting special treatment out of pity or any belated realizations over his worth. There was nothing appealing about Taekwoon greeting him and asking _are you okay_ when he was in the cafeteria with Bomi, Taekwoon offering to hold the umbrella the other evening, Taekwoon personally approaching his little cubicle just minutes before the unofficial lunch hour to announce, "You owe me coffee."

"I don't," Sanghyuk retorted, tagging along anyway when Taekwoon exited the room, went down the elevator, left the building in quick steps. "Sir—"

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, _hyung_. I'm fine. What's with the whole being nice to me thing."

Sanghyuk was immediately grateful that Taekwoon's route involved less of the larger, crowded streets, because he wasted no time pinching at Sanghyuk's hip, the one with a bruise twice as large as his palm. There was only so much his body could recover in two nights, and Sanghyuk cried more than he yelped, to his embarrassment. It drew out enough pity from Taekwoon, however. "See? I feel bad."

"It wasn't your fault in the first place."

They were already at the café's entrance at this point, and Taekwoon couldn't find it in him to argue anymore, waving his wallet with a tilt of his head. "Coffee first."

And coffee last. There wasn't much to talk about once they had their iced americanos in hand. He watched Taekwoon clench and unclench his fist repeatedly throughout the walk back, tugging at his belt loops when he wasn't. It was a most visible itch Sanghyuk wanted to scratch.

"When do you get off work?" he asked Taekwoon as they rounded a corner.

"Today? Eleven if I'm lucky." Sanghyuk caught Taekwoon's tongue swiping at the coffee trickling down the corner of his lip before it had the chance to drip any further. "Why?"

This would be his first time smiling so wide before Taekwoon, and Sanghyuk hoped it wouldn't throw him off. "Let's have a drink then."

He didn't give Taekwoon time to say no on purpose, walking past the man as fast as his sore, scabbed-up legs would allow.

 

 

Walking two steps behind Taekwoon on their way back to _Credit Suisse_ earlier made Sanghyuk realize that one, he was taller than Taekwoon and two, he could get used to this. He could get used to just idly gazing at Taekwoon every day, hoping to see him when he goes out with Bomi for lunch, act like they weren't allowed to touch each other while sharing an umbrella because Wonsik was right. Sanghyuk had to get over Hongbin at some point in time.

There wasn't so much infatuation anymore as there was a stubbornness in him when it came to Hongbin; it was a reliance, a habit turned routine turned reflex that he would say can no longer be undone unless Hongbin himself were to break it.

Now this thought process wasn't something foreign to Sanghyuk—he had this internal dialogue often, whenever someone came along and Sanghyuk thought of holding hands that didn't belong to Hongbin. These never lasted too long because Sanghyuk didn't know how to be in another person's arms without feeling like he had to crawl out of them. He had always been jealous of Wonsik for having the ability to like someone, love the same person, then ask them out and have normal feelings for them while having sex. Not necessarily in that order but everything would always fall into place when it was Wonsik because there was a faithful yet blatant honesty in everything he did that Sanghyuk could never copy.

Standing in front of the bank building at twenty past eleven in the evening wasn't Sanghyuk's ideal way of spending his Friday evening, but he counted to the twenty-first floor of the building and idly wondered which window led to Taekwoon's office. The lights for one of them went out, and Sanghyuk gulped down his anxiety, walking towards the entrance. Wonsik had wished him good luck, told him not to fuck anything, or anyone, and especially himself, up.

Taekwoon didn't express much, seeing Sanghyuk waiting for him sans office wear. "Fuck, you're serious."

"TGIF?" he offered with a shrug. Taekwoon scoffed. "Any places in mind?"

"God, this is lame," Taekwoon moaned, loosening his tie as he crossed the street to reach an underpass. "What are you, twenty?"

"Twenty-two," Sanghyuk answered. He added out of spite, " _Sir_."

"Cut that out," Taekwoon muttered, hand reaching for Sanghyuk's nape as he pinched it in warning. Sanghyuk pretended his breath didn't hitch at that, exhaling so consciously after Taekwoon's fingers left his skin that he felt lightheaded.

"So you're not gonna tell me your age in turn?" he snapped back out of habit, baiting mindless banter to break the ice. Once they were out of the underpass, it was a different district—overwhelmingly loud and incredibly crowded to the point where Sanghyuk almost wanted to grab at the sleeve of Taekwoon's blazer to keep them from getting separated. Almost. He didn't. "Do you want me to guess?"

"Go ahead," Taekwoon challenged, teasing Sanghyuk with another not-quite-there smile that left too much to the imagination.

"Thirty-one."

"Cold."

"Thirty."

"Less cold."

"Twenty-six."

"Warm."

"Twenty-seven."

"Bingo."

 _That's not bad_ , Sanghyuk nearly let slip. Taekwoon led him around for a good half hour, seemingly lost himself, before settling for a mediocre bar at the corner of the street. Sanghyuk asked _why here_. Taekwoon said, _they don't play EDM._

Every time Sanghyuk wanted to get together with a near stranger, he had a plan. Foolproof, if the other was actually gay, and otherwise, the worst that happened to him was a cab ride paid out of his own wallet. It was a terribly simple plan to begin with: get himself thoroughly wasted and wait for morning.

If he had to recall, whatever conversation he had with Taekwoon before his fourth glass of gin and tonic was menial. There were questions of why he was interning, which university he was from, if he had any siblings. He fired back similarly, asking if Taekwoon suffered from older sisters too (two of them, apparently), if he was actually divorced (he never married), if he was lonely (silence).

"So are you?"

Taekwoon took his alcohol relatively well. Average, if Sanghyuk had to be honest, but there was no fun in challenging a heavyweight. "I dunno," Taekwoon answered him, cheeks flushed and a giggle making its way into the slurred syllables. "Does this look lonely to you?"

"Yes." Taekwoon tipped back the last of his gin before removing his blazer to expose forearms so ghastly pale that Sanghyuk felt the sincerest inkling of worry he had had in years.

The paleness followed long after the drinks, though Sanghyuk wouldn't say long because he couldn't recall much past a few giggles after Taekwoon's answer. There was a cab ride, lights then a lack of, and a lot more of Taekwoon's arms. Those very arms were around him, but only for a moment—either Taekwoon let go of him, or Sanghyuk had forgotten completely.

But Sanghyuk didn't remember crawling away.

 

 

**D-32 (15/7)**

Beyond the unfurnished entrance and minimalistic living room was an equally dull bedroom, Sanghyuk concluded, blinking the alcohol away with utmost gratitude to Taekwoon for the drawn curtains. There wasn't much to take in; white on white on beige for every surface he saw, a haphazard pile of un-ironed shirts and dress pants taking up an entire seat's worth of space while the desk before it was bare. Sanghyuk dragged himself to the door next to the closet and appraised his state of being fully-dressed with no signs of having fucked or gotten fucked in the previous night reflected upon Taekwoon's spotless mirror.

Taekwoon was lying on the couch in the middle of his living room, scrolling through his phone when he greeted Sanghyuk with a _good morning_ so nonchalantly it was almost disarming. "I bought dumplings," Taekwoon added, stretching his arms—long, pale arms that accompanied the acrid taste of alcohol still burning the back of Sanghyuk's throat—before getting up. "If you wanna reheat them, microwave's there."

Taekwoon turned on the television before walking away, and Sanghyuk decided on the spot that courtesy outweighed the utterly graceless act of eating alone in a stranger's home. "Have you eaten?"

"I have." With that, Taekwoon tread back into his room, and an orchestra humming behind dramatic dialogue became Sanghyuk's only company as he bit into cold dumplings, the curdle of acid on his tongue getting to the point where another minute of waiting would be unbearable.

Waking up in a bed that isn't his wasn't something foreign to Sanghyuk—far from. Between Hongbin's pile of party invites and Wonsik's ignorance of Sanghyuk's existence the moment he brought anyone home, he learned to not get too comfortable with the view of his own ceiling. Getting bought breakfast however, was a different matter altogether, and Sanghyuk deluded himself for a good minute wondering if sexual relations between him and Taekwoon would get one of them fired.

"You eat slow for someone who drinks so fast." Sanghyuk managed to get a whiff of mint when Taekwoon plopped down onto the space next to him. "If you don't like them, don't eat."

"No," Sanghyuk retorted, "I like them." The task of chewing became significantly harder with Taekwoon staring at him. "Um. Thank you. For last night. And sorry, I didn't mean to drink so much. I'll treat you to coffee next time, or something."

"I doubt you _didn't mean_ to drink so much." Taekwoon flipped through the channels with his chin in his hand, legs crossed like they were last night and Sanghyuk thought it must be habitual. "You ordered like you wanted to get drunk." He gave Sanghyuk a meaningful glance right when he was struggling with a broken dumpling, and Sanghyuk wanted the couch to swallow him whole.

"Is it so wrong for a kid like me to wanna get drunk?"

Taekwoon didn't respond after that, yawning and stretching his arms again as if he knew how it caused Sanghyuk to avert his gaze a millisecond too slow each time. "I'm gonna sleep. Feel free to leave whenever." He made his way back to his room, leaving Sanghyuk alone once more in the company of morning television and half of a dumpling left.

Sanghyuk went through the apartment after breakfast, just because the pounding in his head hadn't fully stopped, his mouth still tasted like the gutter, and he was simply not in the mood to walk home even if it was only ten, fifteen minutes away. He helped himself to the orange juice in Taekwoon's refrigerator (and finished the entire carton) before wandering to the balcony where he happily found a dusty, unopened pack of cigarettes behind the potted plant and proceeded to smoke two of them before putting the pack away.

Realistically, the chain of events between Sanghyuk's fourth glass and Taekwoon's bed couldn't branch out much beyond a few possible scenarios, all of which were meaningless and too tame to rouse the imagination. Yet Sanghyuk found his mind overwhelmed by mere images of Taekwoon dragging him along the corridor to the doorway, of Taekwoon giving up his bed to sleep on the couch, Taekwoon sleeping next to him and waking up early to buy breakfast. God. Sanghyuk had to go home.

His phone was in Taekwoon's room still, he realized, and before his overtly creative ego further crushed his head, Sanghyuk found himself closing the door to Taekwoon's room as slow as what was humanly possible, towering over Taekwoon's sleeping figure which was holding on tightly to a pillow. He pocketed his phone, quiet, and knelt next to the bed. There was so much skin; Sanghyuk balanced one arm on the bedframe and another on the bed itself, fingers barely dipping into the mattress as his face leaned in closer—closer to see, to satisfy the itch in him, closer to hear the even breaths and closer to the fear that he eventually got to. Taekwoon could very well be awake. It was bad enough that Sanghyuk's hand could be in his direct line of vision; Taekwoon could've felt the weight of his fingers, heard the rustle of his jeans. This was bad.

Sanghyuk retreated and tiptoed out of the room as quietly as he entered, fled the sparse doorway that became so unfamiliar once he knew what was beyond it.

 

 

**D-29 (18/7)**

"Oh, right, I saw you get coffee with Taekwoon yesterday," Bomi said, sipping on her frappe. "Didn't know you were friends. Is he your supervisor?"

"He's not my supervisor." Bomi's eyes widened comically when Sanghyuk said so. "I owed him coffee, so."

Their disheveled hair and sweat-soaked dress shirts begged the attention of more high school students, and Bomi flipped each one of them off before leaning towards Sanghyuk with an obscenely huge grin. "What did you do to owe him coffee?"

It was less of Sanghyuk distrusting Bomi and more of him wanting to keep the bits of Taekwoon he had a secret. "You saw last time in the cafeteria, right? When he asked me if I was okay?" Sanghyuk rolled up his sleeve to show Bomi the scabs littering his arm. "He, uh, helped me when my bike slipped the other day."

"I dunno if you're lucky or if this is just a really fucked strategy to kissing ass."

Sanghyuk gathered his lanyard and wallet before shooting Bomi a disdainful grimace. "If I wanted to kiss up to someone, I'd pick our VP, not an associate."

 

 

**D-21 (26/7)**

Taekwoon's door was familiar territory, so Sanghyuk thought his right heel was being wholly unreasonable, bouncing against his will. He wasn't avoiding Taekwoon by any means, but the fear from last time never quite left.

The door was opened wide to the point where it banged against the wall, and Taekwoon wailed from within while Sanghyuk came face-to-face with the man who was there when he fell off his bike the other evening. Sanghyuk tried to recall his name. "Hakyeon... hyung."

"Oh, it's really the kid from last time." Hakyeon wasted no time ushering Sanghyuk into the living room, helmet still on and shoes hastily chucked off his feet. Taekwoon sent Sanghyuk pitying glances as Hakyeon traded the box of chicken with a pack of cigarettes. This was followed by an impromptu interrogation of _did you or did you not smoke these cigarettes which I had so carefully hid behind the pot on the balcony?_ to which Sanghyuk answered _yes_ , to which Taekwoon very quietly scoffed _told you so_ before trading the cigarettes with twenty-thousand won.

 

 

Wonsik had invited his _not_ -boyfriend over again. Not for sex, but for games after assignments it seemed. Sanghyuk learned that his name was Jaehwan, and that he also enlisted into the army straight out of high school, but not before a whole year of goofing about in Europe and Australia, and another couple spent working past eighty hours a week to scrounge up enough money to relax in college, and oh, what a coincidence, he was in the same summer class as Wonsik and they liked each other enough to still talk comfortably beyond fucking. Lee Jaehwan who also knew practically everything about Sanghyuk because Wonsik didn't care for privacy between roommates.

"Oh, the same guy who patched you up last time with your boss?" Wonsik asked without looking at Sanghyuk, eyes focused on his Bowser kart which finally took over Jaehwan's Yoshi.

"Yeah." Sanghyuk flung his towel across the room before wetting a balled-up tissue with Wonsik's leftover vodka to dab at where his scabs had come off in the shower. "What kinda fuckass orders chicken to see _one_ guy among like—I dunno, how many delivery guys do we have in Seoul? What if it wasn't me who showed up?"

Wonsik humored him with a chuckle, but Bowser was losing, and Yoshi threw a banana peel his way. Jaehwan's screech was impressive yet worryingly deafening. "Your boss is a weird guy," Jaehwan commented after the screen showed Yoshi to be first place.

"First, he's not even my boss. Also he was nice. He paid me and pulled the other guy away so I could get out of the place."

"Ah, he's considerate." Jaehwan mocked offense when Wonsik leaned against his shoulder. "Yeah, he's the one who let you sleep in his bed, right? That's awesome. I hope he's hot."

Sanghyuk didn't know which was worse: sleeping on dried come that could've been Wonsik's or Jaehwan's or both of theirs, _or_ being subjected to a first-class viewing of their obscene affection for each other while having to consider the fact that Taekwoon was attractive. But it cleared things in his head, at least. Most of the time, the first thing his dreadful mind would come up with out of sheer habit upon seeing such blatant display of affection was Hongbin's general existence. It did well this time, painfully reminding Sanghyuk of Taekwoon fast asleep in a muscle tank while holding a pillow.

"Would you say he's gay," Sanghyuk blurted out.

Wonsik strongly warned him with his controller. "Don't fuck your boss."

 

 

**D-20 (27/7)**

Taekwoon approached Sanghyuk's cubicle before he could head out to find Bomi in the cafeteria. "I'll treat you to coffee," he offered, "for yesterday."

"Okay." Sanghyuk texted Bomi quickly before pocketing his phone and wallet. "But no more coffee. We're having real food."

They went to a ramen shop just across the street, and Sanghyuk toyed with his chopsticks while Taekwoon spoke. "Hakyeon wants me to quit smoking. He placed the pack there like, half a year ago."

"That's so useless. You could've been replacing it this whole time."

"Nah." Their ramen arrived, and Sanghyuk proceeded to toy with the bits of green onion, watching Taekwoon do the same past a veil of steam. "It was dusty, remember? He checks for that."

"You could just sprinkle dust on it," Sanghyuk argued. "It's still useless."

"Sanghyuk, there's this thing called _trust_."

 _Trust_ wasn't a word easily found in Sanghyuk's dictionary, and he stopped the excuses to burn his tongue on hot noodles. "Anywho, you two seemed close. Is he a colleague?"

"I don't have to say."

Sanghyuk frowned. "I thought we were past this stage, hyung. Seriously, what would get your guard down? Do I have to bring you to my place? Show you my roommate?"

"I get it, I'm sorry." Taekwoon rushed to pass Sanghyuk a slice of meat from his own bowl, as if it would aid his apology, and Sanghyuk wanted to laugh at how childish the act was. "Hakyeon's a friend from high school. Happy?"

While Wonsik dropped conversations and Hongbin was exasperatingly rational, Taekwoon was simple. Sanghyuk didn't want to say childish—he had attended meetings with Taekwoon before, and the man spoke well. Too well. He was incredibly eloquent for someone so reserved, and that made it even more amusing for Sanghyuk because outside of _Credit Suisse_ , Taekwoon was easy. Sanghyuk waved the bait, and Taekwoon would bite.

"Bomi thinks we're close."

"Does she?"

Sanghyuk hummed, slurping up his noodles and stealing a piece of radish from Taekwoon's side of the table. "What do you think, though?"

Taekwoon let the question sit in his mouth. Sanghyuk watched him eat, wanted to make his skin itch a little under his ridiculous shirt—the lack of a blazer was an upgrade, but Taekwoon wore long-sleeves as if he wanted to get a heatstroke on purpose. "I dunno. Can we still get coffee after this?"

Sanghyuk wanted to do more than just jeer at Taekwoon, seeing his hands clench and unclench themselves into fists while walking. "You're addicted to addiction."

 

 

**D-12 (4/8)**

Taekwoon asked him out to drink this time. Sanghyuk said yes. He went home, showered, changed, and waited outside the building as he did last time. Taekwoon exited at eleven sharp.

"When's your birthday?" Taekwoon asked after his third glass.

"Wow, are we really playing twenty questions?"

"Remind me to never ask you anything again then."

Sanghyuk's grin split his face in half. "Fifth of July. You missed it, hyung." If there was one thing Sanghyuk did well in life, it was whine. "And you were _so_ mean to me back then, do you remember?"

"Shit. I should've been meaner. Save up all my good grace only for your birthday." Taekwoon flushed easily, Sanghyuk noticed, and he tended to scratch at his neck and arms. "You'll have to wait another year, I guess." For the first time, however, Taekwoon's fingers weren't curled tight into fists. The long, slender digits with blunt nails tapped rhythmically on the rim of his glass when not itching to find his own skin. Sanghyuk couldn't see these little details three weeks ago, sloshed and too obsessed with his part of the bigger picture.

"You're being nice now. You'll be even nicer if you would pay for my drinks."

"God, no." Taekwoon slumped forward, cupping his cheek in one hand. "You chug. You're a heathen. I'm never paying for your drinks again."

They got to at least six glasses each and split the bill seven to three parts, because Sanghyuk reasoned that Taekwoon made a lot more than he ever would, and he lived alone anyway, _it's not like you have a family to provide for, hyung_. Taekwoon also paid their cab ride back for the same reason, albeit with an additional promise that Sanghyuk would buy breakfast this time. It was when Taekwoon keyed in the password to his unit that Sanghyuk's knees threatened to buckle and give way; he didn't know what he was doing. This was going so very well, as usual, because his plan was foolproof. But it wasn't foolproof at all, and he didn't _plan_ to go home with Taekwoon, and Taekwoon didn't do anything beyond giving Sanghyuk a glass of water to top his confusion off with once he sat himself down on the bed.

"Better?" Sanghyuk nodded, cursing himself for feeling small again. He couldn't owe Taekwoon every time he set foot into his home. "If you want, I can lend you clothes. You can use my bathroom too but lemme shower first."

Taekwoon unfastened his tie, and Sanghyuk gulped his nerves down because he didn't want to—not with Taekwoon, at least not with both of them drunk and his mind veering near panic. "I don't wanna do anything, hyung."

"Then... don't?" Taekwoon hung his tie on the doorknob, threw his socks into the hamper. "No one's making you do anything. You can sleep like that."

Sanghyuk's relief overwhelmed his bewilderment. "You don't want sex?"

Taekwoon scowled. "No," he said, and closed the door behind him.

Sanghyuk nearly fell asleep when Wonsik bothered to text him _where r u?_ and Taekwoon was out of the bathroom in another muscle tank. Taekwoon nagged at him to shower, chucking a clean pair of shorts into Sanghyuk's lap.

Taekwoon was still in his bed when Sanghyuk came out of the bathroom, occupying only one side. "Get in," he mumbled, lifting the blanket. Sanghyuk knew he had imagined them sleeping side-by-side like this a lot since the other night, but to let it happen in reality was an entirely different thing. To hear his own blood rush in his ears while Taekwoon was less than an arm's length away from him was entirely different.

"Did you sleep here too last time?"

"Slept on the couch." Taekwoon poked Sanghyuk's cheek, as if it were something he did daily. "This is what you wanted, though, right?" Sanghyuk turned his head to find Taekwoon beaming, pleased. He had never seen Taekwoon smile this openly before. "I was awake. Sorry."

" _Fuck_." Sanghyuk curled into himself, away from Taekwoon with his face in his hands.

"Why did you wander around my house like that anyway," Taekwoon laughed. "If you didn't, I would still be up. You should've taken your phone, not do stupid shit, and leave in peace."

"I was bored. My head hurt too much to walk. I found cigarettes."

"Is your arm okay? Those scabs look painful."

"It's fine. They'll fall off."

Taekwoon dared to press hard right in the middle of the bruise on Sanghyuk's hip, and he yelped. "That's—sorry."

"Still tender, hyung. _Ow_."

Taekwoon withdrew his hand, but his fingers eventually found Sanghyuk's waist, barely touching and extremely tentative, waiting. "I'm sorry." He bunched Sanghyuk's borrowed shirt up in his hand, drawing closer. "Is this okay?"

Sanghyuk let his hands down, fingers finding Taekwoon's and naturally slotting themselves into the spaces in-between. "I should ask you that."

"I'm okay with it." Sanghyuk could practically hear the smile in Taekwoon's voice, and he couldn't help but turn around.

"If we're spooning, I wanna be the big spoon," he whispered. This earned him a light shove from Taekwoon, who turned to his side anyway with a sigh. Sanghyuk clumsily wrapped his arms around Taekwoon's waist, lips pressed against the back of his neck.

"You're needlessly huge," Taekwoon murmured into the pillow. "I hate it."


	4. part iv. split

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know im a complete idiot bc i forgot that hyuk cant eat pizza   
> also sorry in advance bc idk how to write

**D-13 (5/8)**

To wake up with an alcohol-laden body next to someone is never an awarding experience. Sanghyuk's arm was asleep, and Taekwoon shifted so suddenly he couldn't help but wail, rousing Taekwoon in turn. His mouth was dry. His head hurt. Over the few hours of dawn, Wonsik had left three more messages and two missed calls.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Taekwoon asked over the sound of running tap-water.

"Soup," Sanghyuk drawled. "A fuckton of soup. Please."

And there was soup over the drone of morning news, some plane crashing somewhere that earned a flat _ouch_ from Taekwoon while Sanghyuk lost his appetite after seeing the censored bodies. Taekwoon offered him a toothbrush, Sanghyuk asked where the cigarettes were.

"Hakyeon threw them out." Upon seeing Sanghyuk's mouth hanging in disappointment, Taekwoon pinched his cheek. "If I'm quitting, you're quitting."

"Horrible." Sanghyuk swatted Taekwoon's hand away from his face.

Between the endless deaths onscreen and their fingers meeting right in the middle of the couch, Sanghyuk couldn't stop the ringing in his ears or the pressure threatening to blow his skull in, the sudden awareness he had over his breathing reminding him of being underwater.

"I should head back," he said, rushing into Taekwoon's room to change back into his jeans.

It was soundless when Taekwoon tugged at Sanghyuk's shirt from where he sat on the bed, when Taekwoon asked him something—it could've been the weather, lunch or coffee plans, it could've been an _is this okay with you_ —and Sanghyuk nodded mutely in response. When Taekwoon leaned forward to press their lips together, hand resting on the back of Sanghyuk's neck, and Sanghyuk couldn't do much but copy whatever Taekwoon did, because he had never done this before. He had never done it _like_ this, in _this_ particular manner that was so infuriatingly quiet and drowning.

"See you on Monday," Taekwoon told him at the door.

Sanghyuk ran home.

 

 

**D-12 (6/8)**

"You really fucked your boss?"

" _No_ , Wonsik, shut the _fuck_ up."

 

 

**D-7 (11/8)**

While not as painful as it was, say, last month or a couple years ago, being right outside the room where Hongbin was currently fucking in had never been pleasant. Their late arrival to the party meant cold, leftover pizza and lukewarm white wine, which Sanghyuk was currently gulping down with equal amounts of Ribena, because no one wanted to go on a soju run and no one really had money. The host had left his own house.

"Can I crash at your place?" Hongbin asked, as if he still needed to. They walked back in uniform steps, knuckles touching, shoulders stuck for seconds at a time. Sanghyuk thought it was highly irrational of him to feel like he was betraying Hongbin when the other turned to look at him dead in the eye and say, "I'm moving to Singapore."

There was Sanghyuk getting himself over Hongbin and Hongbin removing himself away from Sanghyuk. The latter didn't exactly fit Sanghyuk's agenda. "When?" he asked in a voice that was so impeccably controlled it didn't sound like his own, mind wanting to detach itself wholly from the conversation. Hongbin was still looking at him. Sanghyuk never understood Hongbin's tendency to do so while talking.

"Next week." He chuckled like moving to some country Sanghyuk hadn't heard of since high school geography was nothing.

Sanghyuk wanted to scratch something badly. He was already scratching his elbow. He wanted to strip himself naked and pick at all his scabs, if only to count how many had healed and how many more he could peel off until there were none left. If only to not feel like his throat was about to implode. "You didn't bother telling me earlier?" he laughed. "Does my beautiful bed mean so little to you?"

"It means the _world_ to me, Hyukkie." Hongbin finally turned away to sigh, sweat-matted sideburns comically slick. "Y'know, I get nervous too."

If Sanghyuk were to weigh up all he had done for Hongbin versus all Hongbin had done for him, it would most likely come out fifty-fifty. Being considerate about the departure would tip the scales over to his side, and Sanghyuk wondered if he would actually be happy with that outcome. "I'll see you off," he promised with a good-natured smile, unlocking his door.

"Aren't you coming in?"

Sanghyuk shook his head. "Got somewhere to be. See ya."

 

 

**D-6 (12/8)**

It was three in the morning when Taekwoon drowsily opened his door for Sanghyuk. There was an urgency clawing at the back of Sanghyuk's mind to push Taekwoon against a wall, any wall would do, and for Sanghyuk to drop on his knees because, god, _god_ would he love to not _think_ right now—

"Sanghyuk," Taekwoon drawled, obviously irritated. "It's late."

"Can I stay here for the night?"

Sanghyuk was then in Taekwoon's shorts again, using the same toothbrush from last week that the other hadn't thrown out since, covered by a blanket which smelled like Taekwoon and Sanghyuk thought it would do him good to drown in Taekwoon's bed. He could die here.

"You reek of Ribena," Taekwoon commented, bringing Sanghyuk back to the reality of an air-conditioned room that made his hair feel sticky. "When are you staying 'til?"

 _Forever. Can I not get out of this room forever?_ "Whenever you let me."

 

 

**D-0 (18/8)**

Sanghyuk left Bomi flustered with Taekwoon while chasing the express train to the airport. Wonsik had texted him in the middle of the ride, saying that he wouldn't be able to make it for Hongbin's send-off, and Sanghyuk's shirt was looking horribly shabby keeping up with sweat that refused to dry by the time he reached the immigration gate.

He imagined sending Hongbin off to be a little more beautiful than him in ill-fitting office wear, sweaty and smelly with his ugly lanyard reflecting the lights as if it wanted him to be proud. Hongbin looked great. Sanghyuk wanted to scream. He wore only a thin flannel over his wife-beater and jeans; a combination Sanghyuk used to see on the home screen of his sister's phone.

"Wow, timely," Hongbin cheered, offering Sanghyuk whatever was left in his Starbucks cup. "Wonsik?"

"Couldn't make it," Sanghyuk wheezed. "Asshole."

"Indeed."

Sanghyuk knew what it felt like to have his arms around Hongbin. They had hugged before—not often, but they had, and it was never unpleasant. He wanted to apologize for how clammy his skin was, for how Hongbin would have to deal with all this grime before leaving until god knew when.

The worst thing about anchoring your entire existence and awareness into another person was that it would never amount to anything, and having to break something that never existed in the first place was impossible. It wasn't the one-sided love Wonsik whined excessively about; Sanghyuk had grown so used to excusing his ennui with Hongbin's company that he didn't realize how deep Hongbin managed to dig into him, right at the core, be it heart or brain or whatever language dictated it to be. It was beyond a projected ideal or boredom or anything. Hongbin was simply supposed to be permanent.

"I'll definitely come back when I can," Hongbin assured him. "Save up and visit me. Singapore's nice."

Sanghyuk lightly socked Hongbin in the shoulder. "You've never even been there."

 

 

"You really could use a deodorant, intern."

If Sanghyuk had any complaints about his summer internship, it was Seokjin who grew more efficient in his work as the air warmed, and managed to clock out earlier than all the other analysts nearly every day without fail. "A deodorant is useless in this heat, sir."

"I told you to call me hyung," Seokjin reprimanded jokingly. "Say, your internship is ending soon, right? I can put in a good word for you. Treat me to coffee."

Sanghyuk sent in his last report and chucked everything on the desk haphazardly into his bag. "Next time, _hyung_ ," he bit out before speeding past Seokjin out the door. It didn't feel good, rushing his goodbye when Bomi waved to him, but Sanghyuk had somewhere he needed to be, straightaway. Ever since last week, all his body could do was thrum impatiently to the hum of the train, listless in its inability to stay still without feeling like it would burn alive. Most would call it excitement. Sanghyuk called it exasperation.

Of all days, Wonsik chose today to properly sexile him, doorknob neatly covered with a sock. Sanghyuk thought Hakyeon or whoever could fuck himself for once, running to the nearest convenience store before sprinting back past his apartment complex to Taekwoon's. It was about nine in the evening when he finished his first cigarette, flicking the stub at Taekwoon's door. The tip of a shiny oxford poked at Sanghyuk's thigh; Taekwoon's shadow looming over him at exactly fifteen minutes past eleven. He looked forty-five instead of twenty-seven from where Sanghyuk was sitting on the floor.

"My place isn't a hotel, Sanghyuk."

That was what Taekwoon said, but he ushered Sanghyuk in anyway, made him shower, told him to change into Taekwoon's clothes.

"Bad day?" Taekwoon whispered when they were in bed. "You just disappeared during lunch."

There was the comfort of cool sheets, and there was the comfort of sleeping next to Taekwoon. Sanghyuk's eyelids preferred the latter. "I'll tell you tomorrow, okay?"

 

 

**loop 1.**

Sanghyuk woke in his own bed. The clothes he had on weren't Taekwoon's, and his phone showed the date to be August the eighteenth, ten past six in the morning.

"Wonsik," Sanghyuk hissed, "Wonsik- _hyung_ , wake up."

"The fuck, Hyuk, it's fucking six."

"What day is it today?"

Wonsik shoved his phone into Sanghyuk's face. Eighteenth of August. Ten minutes past six in the morning.

 

 

Sanghyuk rushed as he did in what was supposed to be yesterday, brushing past Bomi and Taekwoon as he sprinted to the station for the airport express train. Second terminal. International departure hall. He prayed that Hongbin wouldn't be there.

But Sanghyuk arrived at the immigration gate, face-to-face with Hongbin in the thin flannel and wife-beater his sister loved so much while he had to deal with the horrid sensation of starchy fabric clinging onto wet skin. Hongbin wore the same smile, had the same Starbucks cup in his right hand. From the announcement of a delayed flight to Australia to the way Sanghyuk's lanyard blinded him—everything was the same.

"Wow, timely," Hongbin said, passing Sanghyuk his cup the way he did yesterday, except yesterday was still today. "Wonsik?"

"Asleep," Sanghyuk answered differently from the first time.

"Asshole."

Then Hongbin leaned forward with outreached arms; one around Sanghyuk's shoulders, another across his back, hair tickling his cheek. Sanghyuk waited for it to end with eyes wide open, reflected on the flight information display.

"Save up and visit me. Singapore's nice."

There was no comfort Hongbin could give when he didn't even know yesterday had become today. Sanghyuk did his best to smile regardless. It didn't matter if he was dead, stuck in another universe, or so deep in sleep he couldn't differentiate between his dreams and reality anymore—Hongbin at the very least deserved a smile.

"I will."

 

 

"You really could use a deodorant, intern."

If he couldn't change how the day would go, Sanghyuk thought he could at least speed it up and make it easier for himself. "Yes, hyung."

"Your internship is ending soon, right?" Sanghyuk wasn't listening, busy sorting his papers and chucking in stationery into his bag. "I can put in a good word for you. Treat me to coffee."

Sanghyuk could go about his day differently. He could mess the whole order up and not go home at all. He could drag Taekwoon out for drinks and wind up hungover in his bed. But Sanghyuk was desperate to see if anything would change; he ran home to a sock wrapped around his doorknob, Jaehwan's boisterous laughter echoing all the way out to the corridor.

His checklist was almost done. Once he got to Taekwoon's, that was it. That would be the end of his day. By nine-thirty, Sanghyuk had finished his first cigarette and half a can of coffee. It was eleven o'clock when Taekwoon dashed from the elevators to his door, thoroughly deflated as he glared at Sanghyuk with contempt in his eyes.

"Sanghyuk—not today, please," he muttered. "Go home."

" _My place isn't a hotel_ ," Sanghyuk recited from memory. Taekwoon's eyes widened.

As someone who had to live through a _today_ that was so aggravatingly similar to the _yesterday_ existing only in his head, Sanghyuk could cry. He could be dead, stuck in another universe, or simply so deep in his sleep he had reached oblivion. Regardless of reality, at least Taekwoon was there.


	5. part v. sink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for passing mention of suicide in one of the later paragraphs near the end!!  
> just a mention, bc well. its Groundhog Day AU. no one tries anything i promise.

**loop 1.**

"Did your day repeat too?" Taekwoon asked to which Sanghyuk nodded in response. "Shit."

"Do you think it'll repeat tomorrow?"

Taekwoon shrugged, opting to swipe two cigarettes from Sanghyuk instead of answering. The ashes hit Taekwoon's wrist when he flung himself into the couch. "This is so fucked," Taekwoon chuckled before coughing into his fist.

"This is... surreal," Sanghyuk weakly supplied. He didn't think he had the right to give Taekwoon a definite answer when he himself wasn't sure of their current reality. Taekwoon fixed him a weary glare, lips pursed into a straight line as he went about the motions: reheating leftovers, showering, gazing into the dark of his own room from where they both laid in bed. Sanghyuk barely felt Taekwoon's fingers on his; the skin there had gotten used to the warmth, and he had to tighten his grip every minute or so to feel anything at all.

Something akin to fear slipped into Taekwoon's voice for the first time. "You'll disappear in the morning, right?"

"Please, hyung," Sanghyuk sneered, "don't make it sound like I'll die."

Taekwoon's laughter tasted like ash when Sanghyuk prayed to not wind up back in his own bed.

 

 

**loop 2.**

Wonsik shook Sanghyuk out of sleep with an obvious panic in his voice. "Wake up, Hyuk, don't you have work?"

"I don't."

"Skipping?" Sanghyuk had just come to terms with the fact that he was going to be living in what could only be described as a time loop, and being sexiled first thing in the morning wasn't helping his mood any. "Not to be that person, but your credits—"

If Wonsik didn't want him around, he could go see Hongbin. There were better ways to lose his sanity. "Aren't you gonna send Hongbin off?"

The frustration sitting at the bottom of his stomach since yesterday flared into full-blown anger when Wonsik dared to look apologetic with his lips pursed as he quietly said, "I can't make it today."

"He's going away for like, good," Sanghyuk argued, close to snapping. "What's so important that you can't see him off?"

Wonsik relented in the end, and the two of them spent the entire train ride in silence; Wonsik had his face shoved into his phone while Sanghyuk couldn't stop bouncing his right heel. He hoped bringing Wonsik to see Hongbin in the airport would make a difference.

"Timely," Hongbin said, the same Starbucks cup in his hand and wearing a flannel Sanghyuk started to hate.

"I risked love for you, hyung," Wonsik grumbled with a small, remorseful smile as Hongbin gathered him for a hug.

"Asshole."

Once he walked past the immigration gate, that was it. Sanghyuk should be free. He was less than polite when telling Wonsik that he could have the room for the whole day, making it to _Credit Suisse_ in record time with a sweat-soaked shirt and clumsy tie.

Sitting next to Seokjin made his pulse skyrocket, fingers shaking from nerves as he waited for the words that should not come, but did. "You really could use a deodorant, intern."

Sanghyuk was about to lose his mind.

 

 

"Have you figured out your loop yet?"

Taekwoon couldn't be bothered to throw his cigarettes into Sanghyuk's can of coffee, stubbing them out on the couch and forming tiny craters on its armrest. "It's only been two days, hyung." Sanghyuk rubbed his face, sighed. "I've no clue."

They were waiting for the evening movie reruns when Taekwoon suggested to exchange numbers. "Call me when you give up," he said. Sanghyuk laughed sincerely for the first time ever since the loop started.

"This is so late of us."

 

 

**loop 3.**

Taekwoon's number was nowhere in Sanghyuk's phone come next morning.

He didn't wake Wonsik. Quietly, Sanghyuk walked out and locked the door behind him, wandered aimlessly about the streets until his feet took him to the train station, express line heading for the airport. Second terminal. International departure. By the time Hongbin passed him his Starbucks cup, Sanghyuk was run dry, offering a meek reply when Hongbin asked _where's Wonsik_?

"Save up and visit me," he said, flannel slipping off one shoulder. "Singapore's nice."

Hongbin was the supposed center of Sanghyuk's existence. Bidding him farewell had never been part of Sanghyuk's life plan, yet here he was, sending him off. It would make sense for Sanghyuk to at least let Hongbin know what was actually in his head for the past few years of them being friends. It would also make sense for Sanghyuk to be scared shitless right now because if this exact moment was what the loop needed to break, _this_ would become his new reality. Hongbin would know, and he would remember. He would respond in kind. What response, Sanghyuk couldn't and didn't want to predict at all. He didn't even know where to begin verbalizing years of repressed feelings, the distinction between genuine emotions versus the ones he considered too fabricated vague and virtually non-existent.

So he said _I'll visit_ instead, and turned right back around to where the trains stopped.

 

 

Meeting Taekwoon in the evening became routine; in the bar as he suggested this time, downing shots with abandon because wallets would reset come morning, and Taekwoon wanted to see if their bodies did the same.

It was barely eleven when they dragged their drunken feet to the nearby park, eleven-thirty when Taekwoon craned his head up the slightest bit, lips meeting Sanghyuk's chapped ones so consciously it was as if he had been sober all along. Sanghyuk never quite knew what to do when Taekwoon kissed him like this; hands impossibly large as they cradled Sanghyuk's face, thumb brushing his cheek, then a bit of his ear. The hold was something he couldn't wrench himself out of, and that was the worst part. From the hands caging his head in between and the warm breath making him break a sweat—Sanghyuk had never felt more helpless in his life.

"We should stay here 'til midnight," Sanghyuk whispered, breathless, "see what happens."

For now, this was all Sanghyuk could do: return whatever Taekwoon gave him and trying to find sense in the moments when he didn't know where, why, or how to do so.

 

 

**loop 4.**

Sanghyuk found himself in bed, blinking away the park that seemed like a dream as his phone showed the time to be a minute past twelve midnight, eighteenth of August.

There were decidedly more important things to do than rush to the airport and see Hongbin, Sanghyuk thought. "Here, try to memorize my number," Taekwoon said, looking out of place in their regular café without office wear. "I've memorized yours."

"Can I have your door's password too?"

Taekwoon pulled at Sanghyuk's ear before reciting the six digits of his sister's birthday.

 

 

**loop 8.**

Going through loop after loop of the same August the eighteenth helped Sanghyuk discover how easy it was to push Hongbin to the far back of his mind, loitering about cubicles and hallways while reviewing the same spreadsheets for the same models of the same companies. He took Seokjin out for coffee and planned to do the same for Bomi tomorrow. _Today_ , his brain corrected. _Tomorrow_ , Sanghyuk insisted on himself.

Taekwoon's apartment was practically his at this point. Before Taekwoon returned, Sanghyuk had finished his leftovers, watched the evening news which he could deliver confidently word for word off the top of his head and smoked enough to cover a quarter of the pot where he found the cigarettes the first time.

"Have you figured out your loop?" Taekwoon unfailingly managed to ask each evening, either out of some grotesque sadism towards Sanghyuk or false hope on his part.

"No, have you?"

Taekwoon shook his head in silence.

 

 

**loop 9.**

Cursing at high schoolers under her breath with wet stains around her blouse's neckline made up Bomi's agenda for the afternoon, the deathly pile of cinnamon on her whipped cream convincing Sanghyuk that taking her out for coffee was his best decision to date.

"Hey, Hyuk," she started, voice small and lingering after his name, "how much longer do you have as an intern?"

The loop started on the eighteenth of August. "Next week," he answered.

"Shame. You're like, one of the only decent interns we've had this year. I find your horrid face to be my only reprieve these days."

"Shut it, noona."

The hand Bomi had over her mouth was useless in containing her snort. "Hey, Hyuk."

"What?"

Bomi's features were oddly stern despite the smile she kept on her face, fingers restlessly drawing patterns on her cup. "You remember Chorong?" The table shook slightly as Bomi bounced her leg. "We're moving in together."

Chorong who used to tutor him in high school and always had an arm slung over Bomi's—Sanghyuk remembered, and he never imagined her and Bomi together that way. "Noona, that's great." He couldn't understand why Bomi was staring at him so pitifully.

"I heard Hongbin is moving away," she bit out, sipping at melted ice and cream. "Our housewarming is tomorrow. We have drinks. Come over." Bomi took in a deep breath, raising her shoulders as she straightened her back. "Also, if you think you're being subtle with Taekwoon, you're not. I've seen you wait for him outside the building twice already."

Sanghyuk was stunned, eyes unblinking as they fixated upon Bomi's hands twisting her cup around. The silence between them was more stifling than the humidity.

"Do you have some kinda checklist for me?" Sanghyuk laughed derisively. "These are a lot of questions you're firing."

"I know you and Taekwoon are... something. You can't hide these things from me."

"We're not together."

"And that's what you said last time, and the other time, and the first time! You've given me so much _shit_ in the past, do you even know?" Her raised voice was garnering attention, and Sanghyuk motioned for Bomi to lean back into her seat. "Just—I know I'm being nosy here, but I want things to work out for you, at least this once."

"So just because you have your shit sorted out, you think you get to act all high and mighty with me?" Sanghyuk said in one breath. He had never lost his temper before Bomi, and glaring at her crumbling face from across the table like this made him nauseous.

"Sorry for caring," Bomi muttered. "Whatever it is, get over it, Sanghyuk."

 

 

**loop 14.**

Sanghyuk keyed in Taekwoon's password without even looking at the number pad, tackling the man down onto the couch and unzipping his pants without finesse.

"Sanghyuk, wait," Taekwoon gasped, pushing Sanghyuk away by his shoulders. "Han Sang _hyuk_."

"Just let me suck you off, please?" Sanghyuk clambered into Taekwoon's lap, trying to keep his eyes from looking frantic as he pressed sloppy kisses along Taekwoon's jaw. He couldn't keep them closed—if he did, the image of Wonsik moving on top of Jaehwan, confessing _I love you_ so clearly Sanghyuk could hear the words past the whirr of their timeworn fan, would keep resurfacing behind his lids. "Now. I just need to. Just let me. Please." The itch in him worsened, begging for relief to the very ends of his fingertips.

With an iron grip on both Sanghyuk's wrists, Taekwoon turned them over and wrestled him down, pressed one knee against Sanghyuk's thigh to keep him in place.

"Sex isn't some currency," he said, voice low.

It was highly unfair of Taekwoon to kiss his forehead after saying that, Sanghyuk thought, pinned down against the floor feeling small; Taekwoon always had that effect over him. Sanghyuk despised it.

 

**loop 17.**

There was no way of telling how many repeats of August the eighteenth they had gone through, and Sanghyuk's restlessness with the whole ordeal was peaking in a grand show of constant static swarming his head, making even a _number nine, the menthols, yes, please and thank you_ in the convenience store difficult.

Smoke and nerves became a pre-requisite to his conversations with Taekwoon lately. Whether these evenings were a routine borne out of comfort or obligation, Sanghyuk couldn't be sure anymore. There was this choking sensation he discovered whenever he had to talk to Taekwoon, and it would only go away when Sanghyuk steered them into the bedroom—the only part of them he had full grasp of. To say Taekwoon didn't notice was an outright lie; Taekwoon was typically pliant whenever Sanghyuk was pushed to the edge, but there were days when he disappeared during lunch, nights when he bid Sanghyuk good night and slept on the couch. He was aware of it, maybe more than Sanghyuk ever was.

With their current status quo in mind, Taekwoon sucked in a breath before asking, "Have you figured out your—"

"Oh, I don't _know_ , hyung," Sanghyuk snapped. It was impossibly hard to see what kind of face Taekwoon was making when Sanghyuk had tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "Have I? Have _you_?"

Taekwoon grimaced at that, one hand clenched tight into a fist while the other scratched his neck red. His answer was barely audible. "Even if I have, I wouldn't know."

 

 

**loop 18.**

Sanghyuk had developed a habit of saving Taekwoon's number first thing in the morning. Most of the time, he texted first. ( _hyung what should i do today._ ) Taekwoon usually replied within the next twenty minutes to an hour. ( _whatever u want._ )

For this particular morning, Sanghyuk didn't save Taekwoon's number. He switched his phone off, put on a hoodie despite the grueling heat before catching the bus which was headed for the city's main hall. From there, another bus which was set for the airport's first terminal. Then it was the monorail to the second terminal, and another ten minutes of walking to get to Hongbin's immigration gate.

"Wow, timely." Hongbin chuckled seeing the sweat stains on Sanghyuk's hoodie. "Why a hoodie?" he said, passing Sanghyuk his Starbucks cup full of ice still.

What Taekwoon said made sense. He never asked the question with its literal intention in mind—it was a placebo, a motivator if anything, for himself and for Sanghyuk. There was no telling what would get them out of August the eighteenth. This was nothing so simple as gathering all the days and building the perfect to-do list from them, not when Sanghyuk couldn't even remember how the first day went. He wanted out. Sanghyuk didn't care if he didn't pass his program, if Hongbin were to remember everything and decided to cut off all ties with Sanghyuk. None of those mattered as long as he could wake up to a different date on his phone's calendar.

Sanghyuk pulled the hood completely over his head. With open arms, he stepped forward to Hongbin, held him close by the shoulders to the point where their chests pressed. Hongbin would be able to hear his heartbeat as Sanghyuk felt the accelerating _thump ba-thump_ echoing back his own. People were staring. He buried his fingers in Hongbin's hair, turned his head just enough to press his lips against Hongbin's cheek for a total of six heartbeats.

"Keep in touch," he whispered, "I'll try to visit."

Before Hongbin could respond, Sanghyuk had rushed to the nearest bathroom, dry-heaving nothing and wheezing against the inside of his elbow.

 

 

Sanghyuk switched his phone back on to five messages and six missed calls, all from Taekwoon. The man himself was nowhere to be found in his own home. Sanghyuk swiped to dial. "Hyung."

" _Where are you?_ "

"Your place. Where are you? Can you come home?" He added, "Please?"

" _...gimme ten minutes._ "

Taekwoon found him smoking in the couch, red-rimmed eyes complementing his sallow face and chapped lips. "Have you been crying?"

"Do you think we can get out of this—" Sanghyuk weakly gestured with his hands, "—whatever _this_ is, if we... I dunno. Off ourselves."

"You can't even say the word." Taekwoon slipped the cigarette out of Sanghyuk's fingers, stubbed it out on the couch's now-marred armrest before pulling Sanghyuk's head to rest it against his shoulder. Sanghyuk pushed himself off Taekwoon immediately.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That _._ The whole treating me like a kid thing. _That_."

While Sanghyuk's ideal conditions for kissing Taekwoon were for them to be hungover and for him to be in Taekwoon's clothes on a Saturday morning, this wasn't too far. The sun had set hours ago and while nicotine no longer did anything for him, Sanghyuk moved eagerly against Taekwoon, opening his mouth and inhaling Taekwoon's exhale before closing it with the other's lips. He knew how to copy Taekwoon perfectly here, had grown sickeningly familiar to the feeling of his head being caged in and for his height to instantly decrease by a whole foot; but this was the first time he moved freely out of his own accordance, like he could push Taekwoon down if he just tried, and Taekwoon would let him. He wondered if the two of them together like this was fair.

"You have issues," Taekwoon scoffed when Sanghyuk pulled away. "Go wash up. Let's sleep." 


	6. part vi. lather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me voice of course theyve fucked before
> 
> also if ure here for some... Really Amazing Timey Wimey AU this isnt it i just copy pasted paragraphs

**loop 19.**

"Let's not care about the loop for now," Taekwoon muttered over a mouthful of cereal. Sanghyuk was waiting for his to turn soggy. "In one way, this is like an endless vacation."

It was barely eight in the morning, and Sanghyuk felt far from wonderful watching the same disasters roll one after another on the television screen. "Do you think we can live out our lives in this loop," he sighed, "or do we become immortal?"

Taekwoon jostled his leg. "Again. Let's not care for now."

 

 

**loop 23.**

This was the plan: Sanghyuk was to drag himself to Taekwoon's apartment upon waking up and resume about another hour of sleep from there, or two if Taekwoon felt like it. Then it was breakfast. On lazy days, this meant cereal. Taekwoon found the way Sanghyuk waited for his to turn soggy before eating appalling.

Afternoons were free. Sanghyuk took Taekwoon to karaoke the other day, just because he hadn't gone for at least a year, and Taekwoon thought it would be funny to be assholes shoplifting in Lotte World. They were planning a staged robbery next, but Sanghyuk couldn't bring himself to once they were outside the bank because the giggles wouldn't stop. Taekwoon picked up a brick from the construction site one block away and lobbed it at the bank's glass walls before yanking Sanghyuk by the wrist to flee. They were caught, in the end, and Taekwoon admitted that he had been detained overnight before, sometime in college, courtesy of Hakyeon.

Ordering in for dinner was fun because whenever Sanghyuk suggested fried chicken, it would be from the fast food chain he worked in, and Younghyun's jaw would drop every time the door opened to Sanghyuk latching onto Taekwoon. The most they could do before the clock struck midnight was watch a movie or two—Sanghyuk recalled falling asleep on Taekwoon's back the other day. A rerun of _Train to Busan_ had enlightened him to the fact that Taekwoon was an incredibly ugly crier.

There was little to no talk about _tomorrow_ or _have you figured out your loop_. They tried their best to fall asleep or at least close their eyes come midnight. The one time Sanghyuk slept in, Taekwoon called for him to open his door at two in the morning. "I got your address from HR," he confessed.

Sanghyuk thought Taekwoon sprawled across the floor of his living room was a sight to wake up to. "Who's the stalker now?"

 

 

**loop 28.**

"I'm afraid I've forgotten how to work," Taekwoon drawled.

They were lying underneath a camphor tree—not the biggest tree in Sanghyuk's campus, but it was his favorite, a blind spot unless you stuck your face really hard against the wire fence behind it. The grass was dry and students playing soccer served as white noise along with the cicadas.

"That's a good thing." Sanghyuk yawned into his palm before picking up a few blades of grass to throw into Taekwoon's face. This earned him a jab to his ribs. "Bomi told me that the bank is horrible."

"It is."

"Then why work there?"

"Money. My condo isn't gonna pay for itself." Raucous cheers followed the jostling of the fence, piquing Taekwoon's interest as he craned his head to watch the game.

"Just for your condo? You're not basking in luxury or anything."

"I'm saving up." Taekwoon grabbed a handful of grass to scatter about Sanghyuk's crotch, giggling mostly to himself when Sanghyuk sulked in exaggeration. "I'll open my own record store or something once I hit forty."

"When you do, hire me," Sanghyuk said, grinning wide. "I'll be an old, unemployed bum. I can feel it already. You have to hire me."

They had matching smiles, wearing the same expression of contentment which they knew would expire sooner or later. "Will do," Taekwoon chuckled.

 

 

**loop 30.**

If they dawdled around like this for just a little longer, Sanghyuk thought they would eventually forget about being in a time loop. Living the same day forever was feasible. Taekwoon would never be able to open his store and Sanghyuk wouldn't graduate, but those things didn't matter once the morning texts came in, August the eighteenth playing itself out one more time for them.

 

 

**loop 31.**

"Hey," Sanghyuk called, flipping over a wedding invitation when looking for Taekwoon's pizza coupon. It was terribly traditional; white with embossed lettering for the names. _Hakyeon and Eunji_. "You never told me Hakyeon-hyung was getting married."

Taekwoon stilled for a second. "Didn't I?"

This was one of the rare days when Taekwoon reverted to being a stranger, looking lost in his own home while Sanghyuk remembered that Taekwoon couldn't figure out how his day was supposed to go either. He knew very little of Taekwoon, Sanghyuk realized; not his days as a corporate monkey, as a freshman who took up one too many music classes and fucked himself over with finance later, or even his birthday. There were bits and pieces tossed carelessly in conversation while they were drunk (like how he once admitted that he had a bookmark to one of those face-morphing apps online, because Taekwoon wanted to see how horrific his child would grow up to be if he were to ever have one with his crush of the time being), but never too much and never enough.

"The wedding's today. Shouldn't you go?"

Taekwoon's hands wandered towards the pack of cigarettes on his coffee table instead of answering.

 

 

**loop 33.**

_wont be around today_ , was what Taekwoon texted Sanghyuk at seven in the morning. Sanghyuk waited until it was afternoon before walking over to Taekwoon's condominium, watching old movie reruns while wondering if Taekwoon was at Hakyeon's wedding, and whether it was possible for one of them to exit the loop without the other.

There was a chilling fear of Sanghyuk being left in this day that stretched on towards eternity, paralyzing him until he realized it had been at least six hours of him gazing off at the television with cigarette stubs lining the couch's crevice and strewn about the rug under his feet. He wanted to call Taekwoon, tell him to come back already because he couldn't leave Sanghyuk alone in this hell.

All his pleas died down once Taekwoon opened the door, chucked his shoes off with a haggard face. "Did you go to the wedding?" Sanghyuk asked.

Taekwoon managed to nod before exhaling sharply, clenching and unclenching his fists in a manner that couldn't be anything but painful with how pale his knuckles were. Sanghyuk took it upon him to pry Taekwoon's fingers apart. There were dark red crescents across his ruddy palms, and Sanghyuk stared at them, thumb grazing the indents as they faded away too slowly for his liking. He never had to comfort Taekwoon. There never was an opportunity to, and this wasn't like the time Taekwoon cried from a movie. He didn't know what to do when Taekwoon's arms moved to hold him, feet shuffling and pushing Sanghyuk until the back of his knees hit the couch's armrest.

Sanghyuk watched as a moth made crept along the ceiling, crushed underneath Taekwoon with his breaths audibly echoed back against the other's blazer. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, tangled with Taekwoon's as he rubbed circles into his back in some pitiful attempt of placating him.

 _I'm here_ , Sanghyuk wanted to say. He didn't know if he could mean it. He was here because he was the only one here. They were literally the only two people left in the world—his company might as well be involuntary.

"What're we doing," Taekwoon muttered. Sanghyuk could feel the grimace against his neck, and was grateful he didn't have to see it.

 

 

**loop 35.**

"How long have you known Hakyeon, again?"

Sanghyuk had the worst idea of cleaning up Taekwoon's dining table only to set up a game of beer pong on it. Day-drinking wasn't foreign considering how their bodies would easily reset every midnight, but Taekwoon hated beer and was useless at judging distances outside of a soccer field.

"High school."

The ball swirled about the cup's rim, and Sanghyuk glared when Taekwoon tried to stop its trajectory with his finger. "Eunji?"

"...high school," Taekwoon sighed, pushing his hair away from his face. "Look, it's really not that interesting of a story. An idiot stays to marry off his best friend to his first love." He shot a ball—it landed straight into one of Sanghyuk's cups, splashing beer all over the table as it did so.

"Why do you stay friends then?"

"Because they're important to me. Try to be with someone for ten years, then ask me again."

"Then why wouldn't you go? You said you're the best man." Sanghyuk ignored the beer he was supposed to drink in favor of throwing his ball early. Taekwoon flicked it away, shoved the cup in Sanghyuk's direction. "Do they know?" Sanghyuk asked, quieter this time.

"Hakyeon does."

Taekwoon's voice never gave anything away, Sanghyuk noticed. "Do you still like her?"

The game's current standing was five to four, Sanghyuk being the winning side. Taekwoon poured all the beer back into the pitcher in surrender before drinking. "No," he answered, relaxed enough for it to be the truth yet he wouldn't meet Sanghyuk's eyes.

 

 

**loop 36.**

"Hyung, do you ever wanna get married?"

"Used to."

"Used to? Now?"

"It's a hassle and is expensive."

"Kids?"

"I've a nephew."

"No—your own."

"Haven't thought about it."

Sanghyuk idly wondered if Taekwoon was still as easy as he first thought; if his feelings for the hilarious cliché that was his side of August the eighteenth merely ran along the surface, dripping down in simple streaks that would eventually dry to nothing, or if he could stand silencing himself for good.

"Are you sure you don't like her anymore?"

It was always Sanghyuk baiting Taekwoon into saying things without sparing any thoughts on what he might catch out of the other's throat.

"I like someone else."

 

 

**loop 38.**

"Wanna crash a wedding?" Taekwoon suggested over the afternoon drama reruns. Sanghyuk nodded before he could process the question in full. "Go home and change to something nice."

"Can't." Sanghyuk remembered that _today_ was Wonsik's special day, and he would most likely be fucking Jaehwan now. The mere thought made Sanghyuk livid for some unknown reason he had yet to understand. "My roommate has someone over."

Taekwoon's clothes fit him well enough to not look like a misfit wretch, and he tried to not be disappointed when Taekwoon disappeared the moment they reached the wedding hall. _I'm the best man_ , he reminded, promising to find Sanghyuk in the crowd after his speech.

Sanghyuk had only ever attended two weddings in his whole life, both being his distant cousins' who he couldn't recall the names of. The last one was probably seven years ago. All he could remember was his mother nagging for him to get off his game.

Surrounded by strangers next to an empty seat with Taekwoon's name card poised on the plate was far from comfortable, and Sanghyuk wanted to hit himself for getting excited over the word _crash_ when it didn't mean much. In reality, he was just an unknown plus one to Taekwoon's invitation. There was nothing for him to do but sit dumbly in this chair that had one leg too short, watch the ceremony progress and pray to who or whatever still had the galls to hear him out that Taekwoon would say his speech soon.

Hakyeon looked grand on stage, like he belonged there under the white lights with flower petals strewn about him instead of Taekwoon's living room. The music was turned down low; everyone could hear the bride's dress drag across the red carpet. Hakyeon's smile widened impossibly with every step Eunji took, pushing his cheeks up high to the point where Sanghyuk could feel them ache and had to look away. Taekwoon, scarily pale Taekwoon who Sanghyuk thought should never be under lights so stark, beamed when Hakyeon turned to face him.

Then came the vows. The rings, gently taken from Taekwoon's perfectly still hands. A shame that Sanghyuk had attended two weddings before this, yet couldn't recall the delicacy involved in exchanging rings, how everyone could peek at the groom's wrists when he raised his arms to unveil the bride. Amid all this beauty, Sanghyuk gulped down his champagne, eyes never straying from where Taekwoon stood behind Hakyeon, some gratified smile on his face when the bride and groom kissed. These were Taekwoon's best friends getting married to each other, with one of them being his supposed first love. It couldn't be a pleasant experience even if Taekwoon said he had gotten over it years ago.

The whole room applauded with raised glasses, and Sanghyuk's was the only empty one. He waited for Taekwoon's speech to end—memorized, from what he could see—hardly registering the words and mind blank when Taekwoon bowed, walked off the stage. _Are you okay_ , he wanted to ask, but Taekwoon slipped his fingers in between Sanghyuk's under the table before he could open his mouth. Save for the stage, the room was dark; no one could see Taekwoon's nails digging into Sanghyuk's knuckles.


	7. part vii. closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [googles "do associates get paid leave"]
> 
> [the answer is yes, yes they do]  
> [or at least google said so]

**loop 39.**

Trudging to Taekwoon's at five in the morning meant sleeping in, except Sanghyuk hadn't been able to sleep since twelve midnight when the loop started even with Taekwoon's hand constantly smoothing down his back.

"It's really unlucky of us to be stuck in a time loop together," Sanghyuk mumbled. Taekwoon hummed dismissively in response. "You missed your best friend's wedding. Understandable. But I didn't forget anything for my day."

"Right."

"Really. I wasn't around during lunch then because I had to send a friend off at the airport. My day went by with no regrets."

Taekwoon stopped only to slide his other arm under Sanghyuk, pull him in closer. "That definitely explains why you tried to catch lung cancer by my door."

"You don't catch cancer." Taekwoon chuckled a muffled _shut up_ into Sanghyuk's hair, breathing even and slow as he tried to drag Sanghyuk to sleep with him. Then Sanghyuk realized that Taekwoon hadn't broken out of his loop yet despite having attended the wedding.

"Guess I still have shit to do," Taekwoon said, sleep-addled.

There should be a limit to calmness, was what Sanghyuk thought to himself as he seized Taekwoon's wrists, pinned them above his head and straddled his hips. Even with him on top, like this, rendering Taekwoon helpless in the dark of his own bedroom, Sanghyuk could never get a real rise out of Taekwoon. The contrast in their breathing itself ticked him off beyond anything he had ever known.

"What are you doing?" Taekwoon asked, casually, like this was just another passing conversation. He was struggling against the hold, just slightly, and Sanghyuk wasn't sure which part of him was so sick it got elated over Taekwoon's pulse quickening under the skin of his fingertips.

"What are _you_ doing." Sanghyuk pressed his entire weight onto Taekwoon. "Why are you still in this loop? Why are you not out there working your ass off, why are you in this loop with _me_?"

In one breath, Taekwoon lunged up, wrenching his wrists out of Sanghyuk's iron grip and squeezing his shoulders hard enough to bruise. "Do I look like I enjoy being stuck here forever, driving myself insane trying to think of where I fucked up in only one day?" he asked, level.

"Then say goodbye to your record store, hyung." Sanghyuk tried to keep his voice from wavering, but his entire body was against him; every single muscle in his arms ignored his will to move. "Hey, that could've been your wedding too, y'know. Don't you have someone you like? You don't wanna stay stuck in this hell with me, do you?"

"Do I look like I share my bed with strangers? Do I _look_ like I kiss just anyone?" Taekwoon clutched the sides of Sanghyuk's head, pulled him in for a kiss that was more teeth than lips as a warning for _I'm not finished yet_. It stung. "God, Sanghyuk, get over yourself—do I have to spell even _this_ out for you?"

The lump in Sanghyuk's throat burned, flared up to the crown of his head and all the way down to his guts. He wouldn't cry. This determination was the only thing grounding him at this moment as Taekwoon had him pinned onto the bed, body flushed against Sanghyuk's, kissing him over and over as if it would make him understand.

Sanghyuk did.

 

 

**loop 40.**

_ill be out today_

_ok  
good luck_

Sanghyuk took the long route to the airport, hoodie warming his skin and causing him to break a sweat when he so much as stepped out into the sun.

He thought of Hakyeon and Eunji's wedding. Saying _I do_ and _'til death do us part_ before a crowd of at least a hundred He thought of Wonsik's sincere honesty, in bed with Jaehwan, straightforward as they held hands under the blanket. The loop's persistent continuity had framed a persistent scenario into the forefront of their minds and Taekwoon managed to remove it from his before Sanghyuk did. Inherent spite aside, he had the decency to be embarrassed for how things had progressed for them.

It felt like eons since the last time Sanghyuk saw Hongbin, thin flannel over his wife-beater and a cup of icy Starbucks in hand. "Wow—"

"—timely," Sanghyuk finished for Hongbin, an easy smile breaking out on his face seeing the other's eyes widen in confusion.

Sanghyuk had spent years using Hongbin as his anchor. Whether Hongbin knew or not didn't matter as much as the fact that Sanghyuk had to learn how to take the tethers off without tying them around his own neck, as he evidently had been doing ever since Hongbin told him he was moving. He knew better than to kiss or hold Hongbin too close now. Neither of those were what they both needed, not at this point in time, even if time itself had come to a standstill.

 

 

Taekwoon was asleep on the couch when Sanghyuk unlocked his door. The television was left on, cigarette stubs chucked into a bowl of takeout. Sanghyuk knelt down to brush Taekwoon's hair out of his face, momentarily content before fingers touched skin, waking him.

"Want me to carry you to bed?"

Taekwoon turned his head away, but not before flashing Sanghyuk a sleepy grin. "Fuck off."

"Sorry about last night," Sanghyuk whispered, almost timidly, still caressing Taekwoon's hair. "Really sorry."

"It's fine."

The dark blue of Taekwoon's room at night no longer drowned Sanghyuk as it did the first few times he was here. Wearing Taekwoon's clothes, swimming in his sheets—this wasn't a safe space he marked out of desperation. It just grew to be one.

"Taekwoon," Sanghyuk called, tugging at Taekwoon's shirt. "Kiss me."

Taekwoon complied wordlessly, straddling Sanghyuk in a most deliberate manner before running his fingers up and down scarred arms. He lowered himself, hair tickling Sanghyuk's forehead as he cradled his face, just like the night Sanghyuk fell off his bike. Tentatively. Slowly. His fingers gingerly pressed into Sanghyuk's skin. To belittle him was never Taekwoon's goal; he had just been waiting.

So this wasn't surrender on Sanghyuk's part. This was complacency.

 

 

**loop 41.**

"You sure you don't want a wedding? I mean, you're not getting any younger, hyung. Did you know sperm quality declines _drastically_ from age thirty-five?"

Taekwoon missed trying to stick a fry into Sanghyuk's nostril, smearing grease and ketchup all over his cheek in the end. "Would it kill you to shut up for a second."

"Just confirming." Sanghyuk had a wide grin slapped across his face, eyes all crinkled in the corners as Taekwoon tossed him a napkin. "I know we're in eternity, but it's not too late to tap out."

The commercial jingle hid Taekwoon's sigh. "This is manipulation."

"But I think I've figured the loop out." Taekwoon's expression was priceless, mouth slightly open and Sanghyuk could see its insides, mid-chew. This was supposed to be funny. "Then I can introduce you to some of my intern friends, or—oh yeah, Bomi. Yeah, she told me you're pretty popular among her friends. It'll be easy." Only Sanghyuk was smiling, toes nudging at Taekwoon's thigh as his laughter died down from the much more overwhelming silence. "I think we can get out of here."

It was time for the gag routines to air, and Sanghyuk wished Taekwoon would quit looking so sullen when the entire living room smelled like burgers and ketchup, a constant stream of giggles echoing from his television. "Do you really?"

"Yeah." Taekwoon's fingers on his ankle, to Sanghyuk, felt like skimming the surface of scalding hot water. "Hit me up when you wanna, I guess."

Taekwoon pulled Sanghyuk so that his calves would rest on Taekwoon's lap as his body occupied the rest of the couch. "Don't joke about it like that," he warned quietly, still scowling at Sanghyuk. "I'm not breaking out of this loop to go on blind dates, for fuck's sake."

Sanghyuk's toes moved to poke at Taekwoon's ribs next, trail up and down his sides. "Sorry I'm needy," he giggled, mirthless.

"We'll end this loop together," Taekwoon said with finality. "Once we get out, it'll be Saturday morning. You'll wake up in my bed."

"And if we fail?"

The fake off-screen audience applauded after a round of laughter, bright backdrop illuminating just enough of Taekwoon's face for Sanghyuk to appreciate his smile. It wasn't the widest or the happiest, and if he stopped to look closer he'd probably find something sardonic in the way it twitched at the corners. The clammy hands on his legs, however, were frank.

"Well, we're just gonna end up here again," Taekwoon sighed.

 

 

**loop 42.**

They skipped the morning alarm out of habit, hot-white afternoon sun burning them through the curtains. Then Sanghyuk admitted to having turned off Taekwoon's alarm when he crept into the room earlier at dawn. "I thought you had to be at the airport?" Taekwoon mumbled, still groggy from sleep.

"We don't have to get out of the loop _today_ ," Sanghyuk protested. He wasn't keen on talking, legs already tangling themselves with Taekwoon's, fingers tracing patterns on his hipbone.

"Why? Scared?" Taekwoon scoffed with humor intended, but Sanghyuk's muted response of merely nodding beckoned an apology.

Sanghyuk wasted no time moving from Taekwoon's neck down his chest, mouthing along the bare skin of his stomach where his shirt had rucked up. When he looked up, though, Taekwoon saw a detached stare that wasn't fixated on anything in particular, Sanghyuk's chapped lips rough and making scratching sounds against his shorts. "I thought we're over the whole _escapism by sex_ deal."

"Yeah, okay." Sanghyuk withdrew himself from Taekwoon. "But I'm scared."

"C'mon," Taekwoon said after a pause, "I'll set up the Wii. Hope you're not tired because I _will_ beat you in tennis today."

"The Wii? Really?"

"Yeah." Taekwoon gave Sanghyuk a quick peck before getting out of bed. "Just one day of games. We can fuck later, or something. Anything. Tomorrow, we'll try for real."

 

 

**loop 43.**

_get out of bed. get to work._

_mm gmorn to u too  
have fun at the wedding_

_thanks_

 

 

_good luck for today._

Sanghyuk clambered out of his own bed, groggily crawling across the room to shake Wonsik awake. _You gotta see Hongbin off with me later_ , he muttered, just a tad bit more irate than usual. This was followed by Wonsik's _but Jaehwan_ to which Sanghyuk retorted, _I won't be home until tomorrow afternoon so you can fuck him however long you want later just get to the airport please._

Wonsik nodded, eyes awfully wide for six in the morning.

The café just rolled up its blinds when Sanghyuk entered, ordering two cappucinos to go. "Oh, coffee," Seokjin exclaimed. He didn't spare Sanghyuk a second glance, eyes fixated upon the two cups on his desk. "Both yours or?"

"I was gonna ask if you're okay with a cappucino," Sanghyuk offered to Seokjin, who accepted the cup with suspicion written over his features.

"This is a first. Are you trying to kiss up? I know your evals are by next week."

It was already five minutes past eight in the morning. Sanghyuk couldn't afford to waste a single second when he had only fifteen hours and fifty-five minutes left to fix everything _today_. "Please put in a good word for me," he said, smile saccharine, "Seokjin- _hyung_."

Seokjin seemed more than pleased when Sanghyuk held up his cup for a salute. "You're good, intern."

 

 

Sanghyuk texted Wonsik incessantly as the seconds ticked on towards his lunch break—he left his cubicle early, scrambling to find Bomi outside of the break room. She had just closed the door behind her, cup of coffee in hand when Sanghyuk called her from a good ten feet away.

"I was just gonna call you," she laughed upon the sight of him wheezing, hands on his knees. "Lunch?"

"Can't make it," Sanghyuk gasped, "airport. Hongbin."

"Oh." Bomi bit her lip, eyes darting left and right before settling back on Sanghyuk. "I, uh—look. Do you have time tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Chorong and I... you remember Chorong, don't you?" Sanghyuk nodded. "We're having a lil' get-together. At our place. If you've the time—"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can make it." He gave Bomi a thumbs-up, chest still heaving up and down as he caught up with his breath. "I'll be there, don't worry, noona."

Bomi looked like she still had things to say but decided to hold back for now, telling Sanghyuk to hurry because lunch break had started, and he had only an hour to see Hongbin when the trip to the airport itself would take fifteen minutes more than that.

He gave up about twenty-thousand won on a cab to city hall, then made it to the airport's second terminal in thirty-five minutes flat. There was a lot less sweat involved this time, despite his overworked lungs causing blood to roar in his ears, eventually becoming a ringing sound that blocked everything out as he tried to get his heartbeat back to normal. Hongbin was there, right before the immigration gate with his flannel and wife-beater, but no Starbucks cup—Wonsik had it, guffawing at Sanghyuk's disheveled state while sipping at the remnants of Hongbin's drink.

"Wow, timely," Hongbin said, just an edge more playfully than all the other times Sanghyuk had to hear those same words tumble out of his mouth. "Wonsik told me to give up waiting."

"Asshole," Sanghyuk huffed, almost crying out of relief when Hongbin had his arms outstretched, and he practically dived into them.

There was nothing left for him to say to Hongbin when all three of them were huddled up in the most embarrassing hold, garnering stares from anyone who walked by. The hooks were off. He could send Hongbin off with a sincere smile on his face, now.

Wonsik threatened for him to come back soon, at least for New Year's. Hongbin laughed and said that he definitely would if Wonsik were to pay for his flight tickets. There was no _save up and visit me, Singapore's nice_ , only half-hearted shoving on Hongbin's part when Wonsik flipped him off.

"I'll miss you," Sanghyuk whispered, arms wrapped around Hongbin for the last time before a next time that was a little too far for them as of now. He never knew how Hongbin felt all these years, but it was alright; he didn't need to anymore. He only hoped Hongbin thought the same.

"Me too, Hyuk."

 

 

"You really could use a deodorant, intern."

Buying Seokjin coffee in the morning did nothing to save Sanghyuk from those seven dreaded words, or his habit of passing off his menial work onto the younger once the sun started to set and the entire office was buzzing with dinner plans. Sanghyuk went through the spreadsheets he had memorized over the course of however long the loop was, crunching numbers and re-checking Seokjin's data before proofreading his presentation slides, all while worrying his chapped lips raw because no, things would be fine—Seokjin saying the exact same thing didn't mean failure.

It was about half-past eight when Sanghyuk was done, nearly forgetting his wallet as he rushed out of the building, got on the train to his stop and went up the stairs for the western exit. He keyed in the password to Taekwoon's door at precisely nine-fifteen, finished the leftovers by ten, smoked half a pack of Taekwoon's favorite menthols by eleven-twenty. He couldn't stop jiggling his leg, gums itching for more than his bitten-down nails and nicotine, a most impatient sensation crawling underneath his skin as he tried to make himself at home in the couch.

Sanghyuk tried praying; closing his eyes and inhaling deeply as he gathered all the bad, all the hours spent lost and aimless on random streets, rolled everything tightly into his sweaty palms before exhaling with a sharp sigh, white plumes dissipating slowly in the still summer air.

 

 

**. (19/8)**

"Hyuk-ah."

Sanghyuk woke to the taste of ash coating his tongue, fingers ruffling his hair before tracing his cheekbone. Someone was blocking the lights. "Taekwoon?"

"Hm."

"What time is it?"

Taekwoon beamed; it was worn and a little weary, but his cheeks were pushed so high up Sanghyuk couldn't even see his eyes anymore, and he couldn't help but mimic the act, pulling at the corners of his mouth in kind.

"It's one a.m., Hyuk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the patience :') pls hmu for anything on twt @tinycpr <333
> 
> edit 12/7/17: lmao the sheer indulgence on my part. heres a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/tinycpr/playlist/618U7uXlgSZ0YvY1q0v4ig) if u feel like it :')


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